Imagine the longest nap you’ve ever taken. Now, double that amount of time. Once you’ve done that, double it yet again. Once you’ve done all that naptime math, you’ve fathomed just what my vacation was like this past week.

I’d like to say there were fantastic photos from my trip to this place or that but I wouldn’t dare mislead the good people of Suffolk that way.

In the course of this nap-a-thon I had last week, I came to some very interesting and only slightly disturbing realizations. First, when you’ve napped so heavily that you somehow awake with an oven mitt on your foot like a sock and you don’t even acknowledge it until well into your visit to the bathroom, you’ve reached a true state of relaxation.

Second, when you acquire the party-trick-like ability to eat an entire slice of blueberry pie with chopsticks because you just don’t feel like washing a single dish, you’ve reached an almost blissful state of laziness. And last, and most sadly, when you acknowledge that in all your years in and around the good city of Suffolk you’ve never attended its Peanut Festival, you realize you have a great wrong to set right.

That’s right, good people of Suffolk, I feel like I have failed you in some great way. The festival is what many consider to be Suffolk’s finest shindig and I, devoted party bear that I am, have never had the pleasure of attending. For that, I truly apologize.

But fret not Suffolkians. This year I am bringing reinforcements to make sure I do not miss this treasured ode to the legume. I’ll be bringing along a 13-year-old chatterbox my niece, Sam.

Her gift for gab and my ongoing quest to avoid excessive exposure to it will be motivation enough to take her out to see the sights and sounds of the festival. After all, you can’t talk about Facebook friends or texting while getting smashed by an incoming bumper car. And there’s no need to discuss an ever-growing Christmas list when your mouth is full of cotton candy and funnel cakes.

So I ask that the organizers of Suffolk’s Peanut Festival please accept both an apology and a thank-you from me. You’ve made my return from my vacation a mission to see Suffolk’s finest festival. And, you’re translating quality time with my niece into a language I can actually speak. (Fun and games are more of my forte than texting and iPods.)

Let the festival begin. Sam and I hope to see you there.