The trade of wordsmithing, that is. Sir I. likes to narrate stories to me, usually beginning with “Once upon a time, we all got up” and involving the eating of pancakes and playing out in the snow. This one was inspired by our country study of China (we had a Chinese New Year’s Parade which consisted of me, Sir I. and Miss M. marching around the house blowing through toilet-paper tubes, banging on drums and carrying a stuffed dragon):
The Chinese New Year
Once upon a time, the Chinese people lived in China. One day they woke up. It was Saturday and they thought they would eat blueberry muffins. They made red envelopes and put money in them and scotch-taped it for the Chinese kids. Then the Chinese kids opened up the envelopes and found a nickel. After dinner, they had the parade. They had a dragon and drums and horns and lanterns and a lion. It was the Chinese kids’ bedtime after the parade. They went to the bathroom and washed their hands and brushed their teeth and their daddy read them their bedtime story. After when the Chinese daddy read the Chinese kids the bedtime story, he said their prayer, then the kids fell asleep and the Chinese daddy turned off the light and turned on the music and shut the door.
I like how the Chinese kids get American money. *grin*