Last night at bedtime:
“Tell me a story, Mommy.”
“Why don’t you tell me one?”
“I don’t remember. Tell me one, pleeeeease? About Super Sunny. But make her have pigtails.”
“Okay. Super Sunny is a superhero who is . . . “
“Five years old!”
“And has . . . “
“Curly, curly hair! In pigtails! Like me!”
“Just like you. Once day, Super Sunny was, uh . . . let me see . . . um . . . sorry, kid, I got nothing.”
“She was playing with a toy giraffe.”
“Okay. Got it. Super Sunny was playing with her toy giraffe when her super ears heard someone say . . . “
“Help, Help!”
“So Super Sunny flew away to see—“
“No, no! First she put her toys away.”
“. . . Really?”
“Yes. She’s a superhero, you know.”
“I do know, but did you know real kids can put their toys away, too?”
(much giggling) “Stop tickling, Mommy! Stop it! That’s not in the story!”
“Too bad. All right, so Super Sunny put her toys away like every kid should—“
“Mommy!”
“—and then went flying around to see who needed her help. She followed the help helps! to a circus, and the ringmaster told her that the giraffes accidentally walked into the high wire and knotted their necks together!”*
“And one is a baby.”
“And one was—wait. Baby giraffes aren’t tall enough to get tangled in high wires.”
“The Daddy gave her a piggy back. For the circus parade.”
“Oh . . . okay. So Super Sunny starts tugging at the knots and undoing the tangled wire, but things are so messed up that she ends up tied to the Mommy giraffe! Upside-down!”
“And her cape was over her head!” (much giggling) “Oh, but the littlest one gets scared”
“The baby giraffe was scared and started to cry.”
“Awwww!”
“So Super Sunny sang her a song . . . “
“Twinkle, twinkle! “
“She sang Twinkle, twinkle, little star . . . will you help the baby giraffe, too?”
“No. You can do it.”
“By myself?”
“Yes.”
“Never mind then. The baby giraffe wasn’t scared anymore, and she reached her looong neck to give Super Sunny a nosie kiss.** And when she did that, she pulled all the knots out! And everyone was happy.”
“But Super Sunny didn’t fix it—the baby giraffe did.”
“Except they were still all crooked and hunched over So Super Sunny was the one who straightened out their necks and legs and rubbed their sore muscles until they could move again.*** And then she flew up and stretched the high wire across the circus tent, too, for the acrobats. Everyone was so happy, the ringmaster gave Super Sunny four free tickets to the circus.
“And the next night, Super Sunny and her family sat in the front row. All the giraffes stopped by to give her nosie kisses and the acrobats waved to her as they danced along the wire—“
“And blew kisses!”
“They blew nosie kisses? Yuck.”
“Noo-ooo. Not nosie ones! Like this.” (smack-whoosh)
“Ohhhh. That’s much better. And Sunny ate popcorn and hot dogs and cotton candy until she was sick and then she fell asleep on the way home. It was awesome.“
“Mommy . . . cotton candy is too sweet for me.”
“I know. That’s why you got sick.”
“You’re really silly, Mommy.”
“Yep. Good night.”
“Good night, Mommy.”
“You can pick your toys up tomorrow, just like a superhero.”
“Mo-OMM. Shhh! I’m sleeping.”
__________________
*Which is probably one of the reasons real circuses don’t have giraffes, but Super Sunny already rescued the elephants that escaped from the zoo.
** Think Eskimo, not curiosity.
*** My husband: “Nice save.”
Earful of Cider 
Adorable! Your daughter is lucky to have such a wonderful mom!
It helps to have kids who indulge me, Carrie! 🙂
Sarah, this was quite simply delightful to read. I felt like I was peeking in the bedroom witnessing it. (And yeah, nice save!)
I’ll pass your applause to my co-conspirator, Downith! She’s the one who chose that giraffe image, by the way.
(and thanks—I forgot for a second that saving the day is in Super Sunny’s contract . . .)
I never thought about this before but storytelling with one’s kids is a lot like improv for the actor and I’ve always felt you can only do that if you’ve got some really strong technical skills to begin with. Seems to me you’ve got the right stuff. This was fabulous. Makes me want to tickle both of you!
It’s totally improv, especially with a kid who wants the story the way she wants it, but doesn’t want to tell it. It helps that she’s five, though — plot holes aren’t a huge concern for her right now!
I’ll pass on the tickles! 🙂
This is one reason I don’t write about my kids: my friends do it so much better.
If I didn’t write about my kids, I’d have to drop to two posts a week—they’re most of what happens to me.
The image of you and Sunny, so sweet.
When my older two shared the bedroom, we had our nightly Winnie the Pooh story. Essentially the kids would ride their bikes to the end of the street and realize that’s where the Hundred Acre Woods was located all this time.
They transformed into Superhero stories when my husband took over when baby number three came along.
But the Pooh stories were better. My youngest missed out on all of it, time being spread that much thinner. I should get back to those. He’s been having nightmares every night…thanks for the idea!
Bedtime stories, Pooh or superheroes, are great for keeping nightmares at bay.
Get him a bear with a superhero cape, too . . . worked for Janie!
And watch her imagination soar. What a delight this was to read when I’m supposed to be working. (ha!)
Tsk, tsk, Lisa! 🙂
Sunny tells the best stories when she doens’t know anyone’s listening. She held a book open one day in the big easy chair and told her bunny an adventure story about Tinkerbelle putting out a forest fire with her water gun.
Why aren’t I following this kid around with a digital recorder?