Sunday Scribblings: Bedtime Story
Reading the prompt for this week's Sunday Scribblings, I watch the cursor blinking on the screen, my eyes melting into its rhythm as I ask myself what bed time story do I want to write tonight. Should I write a story to those unnamed grandchildren thought up in my head, sharing some good day moral or offer some comfort for days ahead? Do I pass along the stories we learned as children growing up? Do I share another bedtime story I tell myself in the deep late night when I’m ready to go to bed? :O). Then it comes to me, this one burning bright in this head. ~gogo ![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3700/1210/200/%21ATT-2-5B2BBECE4EE4554D942CA2409AA43363-image003.1.jpg)
the bedtime story:
a mother sits close, arms wrapped around her little one lying prostrate in bed. Eyes worn and scratchy, she knew her sleepiness a thicket of a long day not yet done, while her child waited bright eyed and ready for that story to be read over and over again. Mom wanted to make the story short, "Once upon a time, there was a kid who was tired. Then she went to bed, the end." Somehow, she didn’t think that would fly tonight, her child’s imagination grown to the place where it lingered in the clouds of her words and soared in the elaboration of all those new stories discovered. At this point in the game, her little one’s response would have been, "That’s not a story." Tonight, with her star filled eyes longing to snap shut, she wished it was her child’s story.
For all those parents out there who read to their kids, even when they are tired. :)
You can go here to check out more Sunday Scribblings on the page.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3700/1210/200/%21ATT-2-5B2BBECE4EE4554D942CA2409AA43363-image003.1.jpg)
the bedtime story:
a mother sits close, arms wrapped around her little one lying prostrate in bed. Eyes worn and scratchy, she knew her sleepiness a thicket of a long day not yet done, while her child waited bright eyed and ready for that story to be read over and over again. Mom wanted to make the story short, "Once upon a time, there was a kid who was tired. Then she went to bed, the end." Somehow, she didn’t think that would fly tonight, her child’s imagination grown to the place where it lingered in the clouds of her words and soared in the elaboration of all those new stories discovered. At this point in the game, her little one’s response would have been, "That’s not a story." Tonight, with her star filled eyes longing to snap shut, she wished it was her child’s story.
For all those parents out there who read to their kids, even when they are tired. :)
You can go here to check out more Sunday Scribblings on the page.
Labels: sunday scribblings
3 Comments:
I guess kids think their parents have just as much energy as them! I don't have any kids of my own but sharing a house with my 3 y.o. nephew this year showed me just how much energy kids demand of you. And how they never tire of the same story over and over!
Fabulous! Well done, you! Sometime parents are so exhausted they try to take shortcuts with bedtime stories - but the children won't let them, because their imagination is working overtime.
While reading my kids bed time stories I would fall a sleep and they would get back up.
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