My son is obsessed with stories – not fairy-tale or illustrated stories that you find in books, but the kind that you tell while sitting around a campfire; the kind that you are forced to use your mind’s eye to illustrate.
Most nights before bed, we’ll sit down and either hubby or I will make up a short story. It always includes a boy named Bubba and a girl named Bree Bree (and nine times out of ten, it also usually includes farting and stinky feet). Last night, my son announced that he was going to tell the story.
So here, it is. A story about a stork, a mom, and two babies from the mind of a four-year-old boy (embellished by Mom for coherence…although, I have to say that most of the details are his…)