Story Time

My husband loves to tell stories to the kids, whether they are from books or his strange imagination. Either way, the kids are sitting around him with this amazing attention you don't see in an average 6 or 3 year-old.

If he reads from a book, the entertainment value is amazing! Imagine a guy from North Dakota reading about princesses or animals with a Southern gentleman drawl or some guy with a Bayou accent. (Imagine the firefly from "Princess and the Frog", reading a Dr. Suess book.) The kids don't realize the comedic value in this, they just sit in absolute awe as he becomes these characters.

Right now Military Dad is on the couch telling them this awful story about he beat up SpiderMan, yes, SpiderMan. The kids are sitting on the floor in front of the couch, staring at him while he spins this story (pun intended). During the narrative, they ask him questions. Normally he hates to be interrupted, but on this occasion he welcomes the questions in order to add to his creation. Some of the questions the kiddos ask, would trip up a normal person, but no, he just includes it in his story as though it always fit.

Tonight's story time began with a few Mo Willems books read in Military Dad's idea of a Southern accent. When the books were done, Little Dude asks Military Dad to tell him a story about SpiderMan. MD smiles and sits back down on the couch. Little Dude and Princess break into a fight over who gets the best seat in front of him on the carpet to hear the story. Once the blood is cleaned up, MD begins his story.

Long story short:  MD was walking along the street when Spiderman asked him if he would like to take his place, as he was retiring from superhero work. Spiderman had him go through surgery to insert web throwers into his wrists. (Yes, he included valium and his recovery period in his tale.)

Spiderman wanted to make sure he was strong enough, so MD suggested an arm wrestling tournament. MD beat him and won a semi. (Huh where did that come from? Oh yeah, worst movie ever!)

Spiderman wanted to make sure he was fast enough so he wagered a contest: travel from San Diego to Kansas City, eat a burnt-end sandwich, then return to San Diego.

Princess: did you win Daddy?
MD: Yes, I won! I made it back in 27 seconds, Spiderman took 3 days!
Princess: Wow. (Notice the lack of exclamation point, she may be starting to recognize BS when she hears it, I'm so proud!)
MD: I know, right?!

Then MD, continues the story by berating Spiderman on how long it took him to make it back to San Diego. Then MD decides to be a bad guy and throw him off the top of a 12 story building.

Princess: What happened to Spiderman?
MD: Um, well since the surgery he couldn't throw webs anymore, so he fell 12 stories and was crushed like a real spider.
Princess:  Oh. Can I tell my story now?

While Princess doesn't quite have the experience that MD has with BS, her creativity and imagination knows no bounds. In a few years, she may give him a run for his money.

I'm not sure I'm excited about this, though. My story-telling is non-existent in comparison and I can't read books with a Bayou accent.

Guess I'll just be the analytical parent who can put Legos and puzzles together, while the story-teller struggles with the simple instructions.