During the summer, and early fall, you’d find me at the Y lifting with my strongman boss, Joe. Mae has a very active imagination. She frequently tells stories that aren’t even remotely true, but she will tell it with such a passion that, well someone has to believe her, right?
One afternoon after a lifting session, I picked the girls up from the daycare and one of the daycare ladies handed me a paper and said, “Oh you’ll like this.”
They were always handing me papers, because Mae drew a lot and of course, I was supposed to gush over every last scribble.
I got to the car and read the paper handed to me.
I had to laugh. Mae was always telling people to write down her stories. “Mom! I’m telling you a story. Can you write it down?” “Mom! I’ve got a good story. Can you video tape me? It’s awesome.”
Here’s the story she demanded (probably very cutely) the daycare lady to copy down.
It was titled: Squirrel Story
“It’s a squirrel running around. It’s going to Antarctica. He’s going to figure out what he’s doing. The squirrel daddy is thinking about something. He’s thinking about squirrels. There’s chick-monks and they don’t like people. They hate people. They live up in the trees. They eat their pinecones. They comb down and go on the wires and it goes CH CH CH– they got electrocuted. And then they died in the water. And then they got dead. The end.”