Tomas of the Flaming Sword

So, I was helping my friend Tomas make a summer bonfire of his personal papers. Old credit card statements, old bank statements, old birth certificates—you could almost hear identity thieves cursing in the bushes. They made a good blaze (the papers), and I thought Tomas' kids, who are five and under, would be mesmerized. And they were, for a good thirty seconds. Then they started accidentally kicking over beers.

"Tomas," I said, "have you ever told them any stories about our old college days?" He hadn't. So I did. Here are a couple, and I hope they inspire you to pass on your legacy to your friends' kids.

The Dragon on the First Day of Class

When I first saw your dad, he was riding across campus on a white horse. Suddenly, a huge dragon swooped down from the sky! Back then, the campus had a problem with dragons. The dragon crashed onto a parking lot, then coiled its huge tail around a screaming girl.

Your dad was a freshman, and it was the first day of class, so he hadn't yet been issued his sword. However, he had just spent over five hundred bucks in the campus bookstore. He whipped off his the mighty backpack, hefted it high, and flung it at the head of the beast. What a blow! The dragon roared, and flew off in terror, never to be seen again. And that girl he saved was your mom.

The Bull in Spanish Class

Most of our classes were on ordinary things: swords, horses, the art of chivalry. But we did have a Spanish class — that was how I met your dad. That teacher wasn't the most popular, because he dressed like a bullfighter, and kept a live bull chained to the front of the classroom. If anyone made a mistake, he set the bull on him.

Unfortunately, after your dad met your mom, he had a hard time paying attention in class. When the teacher asked him a question, he just smiled and sighed. So the teacher released the bull. Desks crashed to left and right as everyone fled, except your dad, who hadn't even noticed. Just before the bull would have gored him, I leaped in front, holding a desk as a shield. The horns got stuck in the desk, and I shoved the bull out the window. Then I said, "Hey. I'm Bill." And Tomas said, "Hey. I'm Tomas." And that's how we met.

Tomas of the Flaming Sword

I told many other stories about our college days. I couldn't tell them all (I explained), because we had once fallen under the power of a witch, and she had enchanted away most of our memories. Today, we could only remember a story by accident, if some sight or sound or smell happened to trigger the lost story.

Tomas's son didn't seem to buy this, and kept asking for more stories.

Meanwhile, Tomas kept prodding the bonfire with a wooden stake. When the tip of the stake caught fire, it kindled his memory. Punctuating his tales with his flaming sword, he told his son about our later years of knighthood, of the kind, wise Sir Jeff, and Sir David, the tallest man in the world, and all our boon companions.

So go ahead and tell your kids about your college days. They won't be bored.