It’s quiet in the van—a rarity, and one that I’m relaxing into—when the silence erupts into uncontrollable giggling. I look in my rearview. “What’s so funny, Alex?”
“Mommy, it’s really funny when the chicken knocks over all the bad guys!” he says, and giggles some more. (Alex has a really adorable giggle.) And I smile at the reference to Disney’s Robin Hood.
We are running around trying to put together accompaniment books for choir practice, and assemble children into their socks, shoes and coats, and Alex is running laps around the kitchen table and living room. “Mommy, I’m going to tell you a walking in the woods story!” he shouts.
“Okay, go ahead,” I say absently. I hear something about trains and tractors, but I’m not really paying attention. As it turns out, it doesn’t really matter. He’s only getting his thoughts in order. Three hours later, I’m putting him to bed (late) (after choir practice) (when he’s exhausted) and he insists on telling me the whole story. It involves going down to the Magic Goldfish Pond, where he finds train tracks, which lead him to Thomas. Alex asks if he can drive Thomas, and they go see a fire engine, whose path has been cleared through the woods by a combine driven by Grandpa Sander, who has brought the magic Goldfish to see Alex.
I can’t wait to see what comes out of that brain when he gets old enough to understand plot and character. J
[...] that point, I knew I was in for a long one. Ah, my little storyteller, how you grow! [...]