Telling Stories

In the latest zine, Kate Haas writes about telling her son bedtime stories. It inspired me to try and make up some stories of my own for Satchel.

Last week, I ignored the stack of books on the nightstand and turned off the lights. "I want to read a book!" Satchel whined.

"How about I tell you a story instead?" I asked.

"No, I want to read the Peter Pan book!" he said.

"How about I tell you the Peter Pan story?" I tried.

He reluctantly agreed.

I started, "Every night before bed, Wendy told her little brothers, Satchel and Jiro, about Peter Pan, the boy who decided to never grow up..."

Upon hearing his name in the story, Satchel was excited. "But I don't have a big sister. Make it Stacey instead of Wendy," he said.

I love it when he uses my real name. "Okay," I agreed as I continued to tell the story. "Then Tinkerbell came and sprinkled Stacey, Satchel, and Jiro with faerie dust so that they could fly with Peter Pan to Treasure Island..."

I haven't actually read the story in quite some time so I had to start making stuff up.

"Stacey, Satchel, Jiro, Peter Pan, and Tinkerbell jumped out of the window and started flying through the air..."

"Am I wearing my Power Ranger suit?" he asked.

I ammended the story, "Stacey, Satchel in his red Power Ranger suit, and Jiro flew over the milk store, and they flew over the pizza store, and they flew over the blue playground, and they flew over Satchel & Jiro's school until they flew all the way to the ocean..."

I was actually starting to have fun. It was challenging trying to come up with meaningful details for him and I liked having immediate imput. But soon I realized that my little editor had his own agenda.

Once the gang got to Treasure Island they had a big fight with Captain Hook. "Satchel pulled out his Power Ranger sword and cut off Captain Hook's hand!" I exclaimed. "Then all he had left was a hook where his hand used to be," I said, much to Satchel's delight.

Then I thought, hmmm, maybe I shouldn't make this such a violent story.

I continued, "Once his hand was cut off, Captain Hook told Satchel that he was sorry for being mean and asked if they could be friends. Satchel agreed and the gang went to the beach to look for shells and build castles."

"Cool!" Satchel said. "Am I wearing my surfing suit?" he asked.

"Yes, you are," I replied.

My story ended with everyone having a lovely time on the beach, then a lovely dinner, and a lovely bath. Then they all climbed into bed (Satchel was wearing his Spider-man pajamas) and went right to sleep.

The next night I was somewhat flattered when Satchel told Warren he wanted me to take him to bed. "Tell me the Peter Pan story!" he said as he crawled into bed.

I started off in the same way as the night before, but decided to change it up a bit. "When they got to Captain Hook's ship, he was waiting for them with a batch of cookies. He said, 'Hi everybody! Are you ready to go to the beach?'"

"Wait!" Satchel demanded. "What about the fight? I want to cut Captain Hook's hand off!"

"But you did that last night, now you're friends," I explained.

"I.Want.To.Cut.His.Hand.Off." he said.

I was at a crossroads. Should I push the friend issue and chalk one up to parental victory or do I tell him a story that he wants to hear?

What Would Warren Do? I asked myself. (Warren excels at making things fun.)

"When they got to Captain Hook's ship, Satchel and Jiro pulled out their light sabers." I anticipated Satchel's next remark and added, "Satchel had the red one and Jiro had the green one." Then I continued, "They went up to Captain Hook and said, 'We don't want your eyeball cookies' and cut his hand off!"

"Awesome!" Satchel said.

Then I made sure everyone made up and went to the beach and had a lovely dinner and a lovely bath and went to bed happy (and in the correct pajamas).