“Run for your lives!” shouted the Barbie…
As I’m putting Annalise to bed, she tells me she wants me to tell her a story. I start in with the “Once upon a time there was a little girl who went to bed…” and she interrupts me.
“Not that story, Daddy! I want a story about a little girl and a sheep.”
Now, there must be three hundred places to take that, and I’m not going to any of them with my 4-yr-old, particularly as I notice her cuddling up with a small stuffed sheep under the mountain of pink fluff she uses for a bed. So I tried this.
“Once upon a time there was a little girl who had a cute little sheep. She was a little bit cold, so they cut off all the sheep’s wool, and made everyone nice warm wool coats. Then everyone was warm, except the sheep. And the sheep said, ‘But what about me?’ And they said not to worry, your wool will grow back! And do you know what? They were right! The sheep’s wool grew back, and everybody had nice warm wool coats, even the sheep. The end!”
Annalise, who had snuggled into what looked like an uncomfortable position with the stuffed sheep, promptly sat up and yelled at me as I tried to make my escape. “Not that story, Daddy! I want a story about a little girl and a sheep!”
Do you ever have those days when you forget who you are, and try to be who you think you should try to be? What you’re forgetting is that most of the time, what folks want is who you are when you’re not trying. So I tried this.
“Once upon a time there was a little girl who had a cute little sheep. She brought her cute little sheep to show to her father, who said ‘That’s great! I was getting pretty hungry.’ So he cut off all the sheep’s wool, chopped the sheep into good-sized roasts, and threw him in the oven! When the sheep was done cooking, he hacked it to collops and everybody ate it with a delicious garlic butter sauce! And everybody went to bed happy and full. Except the sheep. The end!”
“Yaay! Goodnight, Daddy!”
Some days I wonder. Then I remember to stop thinking. Just do it.