I just read Jolie’s blog about her view master. I too had one and what treat it was. My favorite toy as a child was a troll doll. One of the big troll dolls and I treasured it until the asinine neighbor child decimated it. It was a gift from Papa Doctor (my grandfather) and I treasured it for innocent reasons. I didn’t know Papa Doctor and I had childish notions of what a wonderful person he wasn’t. I don’t remember playing with it; I probably had it on a shelf and admired it. My question I will pose it this – what childhood toy do you recall with affection? It will be interesting to see who answers this or post their answer on their blog.
I have read so many blogs and I wish I had the capabilities to write so eloquently and with so much thought and intelligence. I am a story teller to my children but find so hard to write my stories down. I take some responsibility for my children’s imagination. What stopped me from telling stories to my children was divine intervention. Yep, God spoke and I listened. Since my middle child doesn’t read my blogs I will pass this on. I loved telling my children ghost stories. One night, around dark, I remembered that I hadn’t taken the laundry in. So I gathered my basket and my then 3-year old son and started out the door. It was a wonderful night, ink black with the moon shadows dancing on the ground and I started telling my child about the little men that lived under our trailer. At that time we hadn’t put the skirting on and so my little man kept glancing at the vast void between earth and mobile. I told him in vivid details about their green skin, boils and warts. I explained that they had sharp teeth and they were hungry. By the time we reached the clothes line he was literally dancing. The night noises filled the air and every time I heard a particular noise I would say “Listen they are sharpening their knives.” My child was getting into it. He would say “listen mama they’re getting their plates out.” We bantered back and forth like this until the last towel was removed from the line and we headed back to our home. I don’t know if you all have seen a Rhino Beetle but it is the biggest beetle in the state of Missouri. It was that night that one flew out of a tree or something and land smack dab in the middle of my child’s chest. Its humongous pincher grabbed onto his shirt and held on for dear life. My child grabbed at his chest and screamed “they got me mama, they got me.” Then he went running into the house and threw himself on the couch. I dropped my laundry and went after him. I pulled the beetle off of his shirt and tried to comfort him by showing him it was just a beetle. I think the beetle scared him more when he saw it than the story but I took it as a divine message to stop the ghost stories and even though they begged me to tell them a ghost story I refused. No more.
Tomorrow we off to Highland for repairs. Until then.
I have read so many blogs and I wish I had the capabilities to write so eloquently and with so much thought and intelligence. I am a story teller to my children but find so hard to write my stories down. I take some responsibility for my children’s imagination. What stopped me from telling stories to my children was divine intervention. Yep, God spoke and I listened. Since my middle child doesn’t read my blogs I will pass this on. I loved telling my children ghost stories. One night, around dark, I remembered that I hadn’t taken the laundry in. So I gathered my basket and my then 3-year old son and started out the door. It was a wonderful night, ink black with the moon shadows dancing on the ground and I started telling my child about the little men that lived under our trailer. At that time we hadn’t put the skirting on and so my little man kept glancing at the vast void between earth and mobile. I told him in vivid details about their green skin, boils and warts. I explained that they had sharp teeth and they were hungry. By the time we reached the clothes line he was literally dancing. The night noises filled the air and every time I heard a particular noise I would say “Listen they are sharpening their knives.” My child was getting into it. He would say “listen mama they’re getting their plates out.” We bantered back and forth like this until the last towel was removed from the line and we headed back to our home. I don’t know if you all have seen a Rhino Beetle but it is the biggest beetle in the state of Missouri. It was that night that one flew out of a tree or something and land smack dab in the middle of my child’s chest. Its humongous pincher grabbed onto his shirt and held on for dear life. My child grabbed at his chest and screamed “they got me mama, they got me.” Then he went running into the house and threw himself on the couch. I dropped my laundry and went after him. I pulled the beetle off of his shirt and tried to comfort him by showing him it was just a beetle. I think the beetle scared him more when he saw it than the story but I took it as a divine message to stop the ghost stories and even though they begged me to tell them a ghost story I refused. No more.
Tomorrow we off to Highland for repairs. Until then.
0 comments:
Post a Comment