“Mommy, when me and daddy was kids, we was doing a bunch of fun things. Do you want to know what it was?”
“It was all the way to the moon, this dinasour, and we was riding it when we was kids! It had the longest neck, all the way to the moon, and the biggest head! There was two seats, one for me and one for dad. I was on the right side and daddy was on the left side. Do you wanna know what else?”
“When we was kids, daddy and me, we was playing tag outside!”
“With the dinasour?”
“Yup, with the dinasour. But the dinasour was only an animal. I was stuck to it! It was a stuffed animal, just a little one. Let me think again! Think, think, think…”
“Was any of it real?”
“No, it was only me and dad. And we built a scarecrow.”
When Nolan tells me stories, he sounds so much like when I would tell stories at his age. His imagination is so big and he just can’t get his ideas out quick enough. He ends up stumbling over his words and fusing his stories together so that they don’t really make sense.
I sense a little writer in our midst. I can’t wait until he starts writing his stories out on paper. If he’s anything like me (and I think he is!), he will spend hours pouring his stories out on the page.