Imaginations

Riding home through the canyon the other day we got started on a story fest.  The fest began in an effort to distract the younger ones from the fact that the older ones got to stay up the canyon for a sleepover with the cousins.

One story lead to another and another and soon Hadley was saying, "anymore stories" as soon as one finished.  We had pretty much exhausted our stories (or were simply just exhausted) and asked her if she had a story. Now to preface this I should say that our stories had all been real, but because she hadn't been there I guess she had no way to know this.

Here is her story:

"One time when I was a baby we went to the zoo, and I was in the stroller.

You forgot me and I got left there and a tiger ate me inside his stomach and it was dirty.

Then the tiger got nice and took me out of his mouth.

I was so messy.

He had a wash cloth sitting by him and I used (“oozed”) it to clean myself.

And then you came back and got me."