As we sprinkled reindeer food on the lawn tonight, I got impatient and dumped the rest of the baggie out in a pile on the lawn.
My husband snorted and said "Who's that for? Fatzen?"
Then he chuckled and continued "On Dasher! On Dancer! On Prancer! On Fatzen!!! FATZEN! GET UP! GOOOOOO!!!"
Ha.Ha.
I feel a story in the works. Tailored especially for obese childrens. ;)
Merry Christmas!
Showing posts with label children's stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children's stories. Show all posts
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Day 67: Porcupine
So. I got on my computer to write. And this is what I've done since then:
1) Watched The Meanest Mom's clip from Greensboro Fox 8 News.
2) Watch a video clip of some dog wanting to eat cupcakes from Cake Wrecks.
3) Read some funny posts on a new blog I found, one of which was directions for how to make chocolate covered bacon.
4) Looked at homes for sale in Utah. (I don't know why.)
So. I really need to get writing, and The Spouse challenged me to write a story containing the following things: a lemon, a songbook, a porcupine, and a mallet. (Are you kidding me??)
Here goes.
There was, not very long ago, a small and kindly porcupine that lived in a neat and tidy little burrow under the ground. He had to be neat and tidy, because otherwise his quills got stuck on every little thing, and it was difficult to get around.
Each morning, the porcupine would leave his neat and tidy little burrow, and go out for his adventure for the day. For although he liked his home to be nice and orderly, once he stepped outside of his burrow, there was nothing he enjoyed more than a good adventure.
On this particular morning, he was snuffling about in the fall leaves, smelling things, eating things, and enjoying the crunching sound of his little paws, when suddenly he heard the quiet sound of singing.
Curious, he sniffed and snuffled his way in the direction of the sound. The song got louder as he got closer, but--even very close--it was still quiet. Finally, he came to the edge of a little clearing, and in the center sat a small hedgehog, holding a songbook, and singing a soft little song.
The porcupine was delighted! Here was a creature he had never seen before, and it was prickly, just like himself. So, politely, he cleared his throat to let the little creature know he was there. The hedgehog jumped, of course, because he was startled and had thought he was alone.
The porcupine felt very sorry for frightening him, and quickly said that he was sorry, but wondered if he might ask who this little creature was, and what he happened to be doing in Porcupine's forest.
The hedgehog had tiny, black eyes and they looked very sad as he told the porcupine that normally, he is not a forest animal, he is a hedge animal, but that he got so distracted on his way home from gathering berries that he had gotten very lost, and had stopped to sing himself a song so that maybe he would feel better.
Porcupine felt very sorry, and told Hedgehog that he must come with him to his burrow and rest a little and have something to eat. The hedgehog hesitated, because porcupine was a stranger, and he thought that it probably wasn't a good idea, but, then again, porcupine seemed such a kind fellow, and he was prickly--just like himself, so it must be alright.
So hedgehog and porcupine sniffed and snuffled together back to Porcupines burrow. Hedgehog was very impressed with how neat and tidy it was, which made Porcupine feel very proud. He trundled about, getting some water and berries for hedgehog to eat. As a special delicacy, he rolled out a large, yellow lemon that he had found when some people having a picnic had left it behind suddenly when it began to rain.
It was such a happy color that he hated to eat it, but thought that surely something that beautiful must be delicious. Because it was the best he had, he decided to share it with his special, prickly guest. So, taking his small mallet in his paws, he smashed at the lemon a few times until it split in two.
Rolling one half over to the hedgehog and keeping one half to himself, they both took a large bite at the same time. My goodness! It was very, very sour! Both of them puckered up their mouths and made very funny faces, which made them begin to laugh. It made the sad little hedgehog laugh so hard, that porcupine took another bite and made more funny faces just to keep his new friend laughing. They decided to squeeze some of the lemon into some water, with a few drops of wild honey, and then it tasted very delicious indeed.
They had such a nice afternoon that porcupine began to feel very sad that hedgehog would need to leave, but he knew that he must help him find his home. He asked hedgehog to describe where he lived, and the things about it, because maybe--in his adventures--the porcupine had come near it at one time or another. And, indeed, he had! He knew right where it was. The best part of all? It was, really, very close by--so he would be able to see his new friend and have lemonade as often as they could wish.
And they did.
The End.
1) Watched The Meanest Mom's clip from Greensboro Fox 8 News.
2) Watch a video clip of some dog wanting to eat cupcakes from Cake Wrecks.
3) Read some funny posts on a new blog I found, one of which was directions for how to make chocolate covered bacon.
4) Looked at homes for sale in Utah. (I don't know why.)
So. I really need to get writing, and The Spouse challenged me to write a story containing the following things: a lemon, a songbook, a porcupine, and a mallet. (Are you kidding me??)
Here goes.
There was, not very long ago, a small and kindly porcupine that lived in a neat and tidy little burrow under the ground. He had to be neat and tidy, because otherwise his quills got stuck on every little thing, and it was difficult to get around.
Each morning, the porcupine would leave his neat and tidy little burrow, and go out for his adventure for the day. For although he liked his home to be nice and orderly, once he stepped outside of his burrow, there was nothing he enjoyed more than a good adventure.
On this particular morning, he was snuffling about in the fall leaves, smelling things, eating things, and enjoying the crunching sound of his little paws, when suddenly he heard the quiet sound of singing.
Curious, he sniffed and snuffled his way in the direction of the sound. The song got louder as he got closer, but--even very close--it was still quiet. Finally, he came to the edge of a little clearing, and in the center sat a small hedgehog, holding a songbook, and singing a soft little song.
The porcupine was delighted! Here was a creature he had never seen before, and it was prickly, just like himself. So, politely, he cleared his throat to let the little creature know he was there. The hedgehog jumped, of course, because he was startled and had thought he was alone.
The porcupine felt very sorry for frightening him, and quickly said that he was sorry, but wondered if he might ask who this little creature was, and what he happened to be doing in Porcupine's forest.
The hedgehog had tiny, black eyes and they looked very sad as he told the porcupine that normally, he is not a forest animal, he is a hedge animal, but that he got so distracted on his way home from gathering berries that he had gotten very lost, and had stopped to sing himself a song so that maybe he would feel better.
Porcupine felt very sorry, and told Hedgehog that he must come with him to his burrow and rest a little and have something to eat. The hedgehog hesitated, because porcupine was a stranger, and he thought that it probably wasn't a good idea, but, then again, porcupine seemed such a kind fellow, and he was prickly--just like himself, so it must be alright.
So hedgehog and porcupine sniffed and snuffled together back to Porcupines burrow. Hedgehog was very impressed with how neat and tidy it was, which made Porcupine feel very proud. He trundled about, getting some water and berries for hedgehog to eat. As a special delicacy, he rolled out a large, yellow lemon that he had found when some people having a picnic had left it behind suddenly when it began to rain.
It was such a happy color that he hated to eat it, but thought that surely something that beautiful must be delicious. Because it was the best he had, he decided to share it with his special, prickly guest. So, taking his small mallet in his paws, he smashed at the lemon a few times until it split in two.
Rolling one half over to the hedgehog and keeping one half to himself, they both took a large bite at the same time. My goodness! It was very, very sour! Both of them puckered up their mouths and made very funny faces, which made them begin to laugh. It made the sad little hedgehog laugh so hard, that porcupine took another bite and made more funny faces just to keep his new friend laughing. They decided to squeeze some of the lemon into some water, with a few drops of wild honey, and then it tasted very delicious indeed.
They had such a nice afternoon that porcupine began to feel very sad that hedgehog would need to leave, but he knew that he must help him find his home. He asked hedgehog to describe where he lived, and the things about it, because maybe--in his adventures--the porcupine had come near it at one time or another. And, indeed, he had! He knew right where it was. The best part of all? It was, really, very close by--so he would be able to see his new friend and have lemonade as often as they could wish.
And they did.
The End.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Day 64: Sick.
*sniff* I'b sick. It's just a cold. But it's the kind of cold that bakes your ears feel all scratchy and your head seebs to weigh a little bore than usual. In other words: the kind of cold that should require insurance to pay for a nanny, a baid, and a cook for 48 hours so you can get some rest. (Hbbbb... I bight be on to something there. I'll put it on by agenda for by first terb as a senator...) Okay. Enough of the phonetic spelling.
This cold reminds me, by the way, that I have the immune system of... um... what has a really bad immune system? A mushroom, maybe? (And why, oh why, aren't there more medications out there approved for nursing mother's???? Because I can find, oh... none.) The Spouse pointed out tonight that Thing 1 seemed to have gotten his immune system, and Thing 2 got mine. I wondered how he had come to this conclusion. Could it be the constant flow of snot down my son's face? Could it be the fact that he always seems to be sick with something? (At least *just* sick enough that he probably shouldn't go to nursery on Sunday.) But, then again, Thing 1 is "sensitive" to tylenol and likes to spike fevers of 105. So it's probably good she doesn't get sick that often.
Some friends asked me the other day why my kids immune systems are so good. (Because, apparently, they are.) I replied, "You gotta let 'em suck on the shopping cart handles at Walmart. That'll do it." They laughed nervously and looked slightly dismayed. Maybe it's because I'll be watching their kids tomorrow.
And that makes me think of shopping carts, which makes me think of Target, and I wonder if maybe it was because of this cold that I bought that attrociously poo-colored sofa cover tonight. I mean, it must've been something. Surely, in my normal state, I wouldn't have come home with a sofa cover the color of "It looks like somebody missed." (One of my favorite quotes from my dad, by the way.) So, back it must go.
Oh well. Another chance for my kids to suck on the cart handles. Perfect.
This cold reminds me, by the way, that I have the immune system of... um... what has a really bad immune system? A mushroom, maybe? (And why, oh why, aren't there more medications out there approved for nursing mother's???? Because I can find, oh... none.) The Spouse pointed out tonight that Thing 1 seemed to have gotten his immune system, and Thing 2 got mine. I wondered how he had come to this conclusion. Could it be the constant flow of snot down my son's face? Could it be the fact that he always seems to be sick with something? (At least *just* sick enough that he probably shouldn't go to nursery on Sunday.) But, then again, Thing 1 is "sensitive" to tylenol and likes to spike fevers of 105. So it's probably good she doesn't get sick that often.
Some friends asked me the other day why my kids immune systems are so good. (Because, apparently, they are.) I replied, "You gotta let 'em suck on the shopping cart handles at Walmart. That'll do it." They laughed nervously and looked slightly dismayed. Maybe it's because I'll be watching their kids tomorrow.
And that makes me think of shopping carts, which makes me think of Target, and I wonder if maybe it was because of this cold that I bought that attrociously poo-colored sofa cover tonight. I mean, it must've been something. Surely, in my normal state, I wouldn't have come home with a sofa cover the color of "It looks like somebody missed." (One of my favorite quotes from my dad, by the way.) So, back it must go.
Oh well. Another chance for my kids to suck on the cart handles. Perfect.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Day 55: Fire Bird
I'm afraid that my entries the past few days have been... well... "pretty bad" might be even too nice a term for them. It's a funny thing, this writing. Some nights, I have such great ideas. Other nights, I feel like there just isn't anything there. So, I write--either way. And some mornings, I wake up and think "Oy. Last night's entry was awful. I should erase it." Almost without fail, it's the stories that I think were awful that get a good response, and some that I really like--get none. So I erase none of them. Good, bad, unedited as they are. They stay. But, please, accept my apologies for the ones that are "pretty bad."
Tonight, I was trying to make up a story for my son as I was trying to wrestle him into his pajamas. Something about a bird of every single color who could fly so high that he could see the whole world. I was feeling pleased with it. My son, on the other hand, couldn't have been any *less* interested. So I thought I'd write my simple story here. Maybe someone *else* will like it...
****
There once was a bird.
It had draping feathers of blue, red, purple, yellow, green, white, black, orange, and aqua--every color of the rainbow. But it didn't always.
Once, that bird was very small, and very weak, with simple brown feathers. But, one day, he decided to fly as far as he could--to see what he could see.
Setting off, he could see some squirrels in the trees, gathering nuts. He could see small fish in the streams. But, before long he grew very tired, and went back to his tree.
When he reached there, he realized that he had grown some silvery blue feather--the color of the stream, and some green feathers--the color of the trees.
The next day, and the day after and after, he flew a little further and a little higher.
He saw sheep in the meadows and cows in the fields dotted with purple clover.
Higher still, he could see goats clambering on the rocks in the mountains,
their peaks covered in glistening white snow.
Ever higher and higher he flew, and soon he was never tired. And for everything he saw, he grew feathers of different colors. The yellow of the sunrise and the orange of the sunset.
Higher and higher it would fly, until it could see the boats bobbing on the deep blue ocean. Soon, it reached the moon, with it's smiling face, and grew silver white feathers.
Higher still, the bird--strong and beautiful--flew and flew,
until it's tail feathers brushed the stars and it turned all the colors of the sun.
Tonight, I was trying to make up a story for my son as I was trying to wrestle him into his pajamas. Something about a bird of every single color who could fly so high that he could see the whole world. I was feeling pleased with it. My son, on the other hand, couldn't have been any *less* interested. So I thought I'd write my simple story here. Maybe someone *else* will like it...
****
There once was a bird.
It had draping feathers of blue, red, purple, yellow, green, white, black, orange, and aqua--every color of the rainbow. But it didn't always.
Once, that bird was very small, and very weak, with simple brown feathers. But, one day, he decided to fly as far as he could--to see what he could see.
Setting off, he could see some squirrels in the trees, gathering nuts. He could see small fish in the streams. But, before long he grew very tired, and went back to his tree.
When he reached there, he realized that he had grown some silvery blue feather--the color of the stream, and some green feathers--the color of the trees.
The next day, and the day after and after, he flew a little further and a little higher.
He saw sheep in the meadows and cows in the fields dotted with purple clover.
Higher still, he could see goats clambering on the rocks in the mountains,
their peaks covered in glistening white snow.
Ever higher and higher he flew, and soon he was never tired. And for everything he saw, he grew feathers of different colors. The yellow of the sunrise and the orange of the sunset.
Higher and higher it would fly, until it could see the boats bobbing on the deep blue ocean. Soon, it reached the moon, with it's smiling face, and grew silver white feathers.
Higher still, the bird--strong and beautiful--flew and flew,
until it's tail feathers brushed the stars and it turned all the colors of the sun.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Day 9: Bug.
Today's entry might be a little tricky. I would love to write children's books. (Actually, the University of North Carolina at Charlotte offers a Masters in Children's Literature that I've been wishing to try out for several years. Doesn't that sound cool?) So, today, I'm going to write an idea for a children's book. It's hard to explain how I picture it in my head, all illustrated, but I'm going to give it a shot. (Each space indicated "new page".)
Note: Below is the "revised" version. Several of you suggested filling out the end, so I tried to do that a little better. Let me know what you think--do you like this version better, or the old one?
BUG
Bug lived in a quiet corner of the world, deep in the shade of some dandelion trees, near the great Gutterspout River that only ran when it rained.
His home was a lovely little hole, dug in the warm ground with a friendly little entrance at the top. Next to his door was a little welcome mat, made of grass, for Bug loved visitors.
His nearest neighbor and dearest friend was Lady Bug, who lived in a vast house in a mushroom. Sometimes she would come calling with a large blueberry muffin crumble in her hands, because she knew that blueberry muffin crumbles, though rare, were Bug's favorite food in the whole world.
One beautiful summer morning, Lady Bug came by and asked Bug if he would like to go crumble hunting with her. "Blueberry muffin crumble hunting?" he asked hopefully. "Maybe," she kindly replied, "but we might find other kinds of crumbles as well." He pulled his grass mat over the entrance of his door, and they set out.
First they happened by his very old neighbor, Sir Centipede. Sir Centipede smiled and waved his many hands. "Good morning!" they called to him.
Further down the lane was the huge Ant family. "Hello! Where are you going?" all the little ants cried as they clamored about. "We are going crumble hunting." said Bug importantly. "Can we come?" they all begged. Oh dear! They would never find enough crumbles to feed this many little ants. But Mama Ant said, "No, children. For we must dig in our house and make more room for more baby ants." With a wave, Bug and Lady Bug went on.
Gathering small crumbles as they went, soon they came to the center of town. Here, there were many large and strange bugs to be seen. Bug could see katydid taxis, beetles cleaning the street, spiders going shopping, and praying mantis policemen. So many bugs, each of them beautiful. Each of them busy!
Soon they walked out of the center of town, and came closer to the most dangerous part of their world. Every bug was afraid to come here, and only the bravest bugs came. This was where the terrible, frightening SHOE MONSTER lived.
With a huge TROMP, TROMP, TROMP the Shoe Monster would come--crushing every bug in it's path! You had to be very careful.
But this was also where the very best crumbles were to be found--especially the rare blueberry muffin crumble, so Lady Bug and Bug bravely went gathering crumbles.
Just then, up ahead, Bug spied the biggest blueberry muffin crumble he had ever seen. He dropped his armful of cheese crumbles and dry cracker crumbles and rushed toward it.
Right as he reached the crumble with delight, he heard it coming. TROMPING, TROMPING, TROMPING. "Bug! The Shoe Monster!" cried Lady Bug. He scooped up the crumble, but it was too heavy--he could not run! The great shadow fell across the ground and darkened the sun. Bug trembled with fear.
But the brave Lady Bug dropped her crumbles, spread her wings, and flew to scoop up her friend Bug. "Hold on tight!" she said, and he did. He held on to that blueberry muffin crumble with all his might, and they flew away--back to the center of town.
"Shwew!" said Bug, laughing. "That was close." "Yes," said Lady Bug, "but that crumble is big enough to last you for days!" Happily, Lady Bug helped Bug to carry the huge blueberry muffin crumble back to his house.
When they got there the crumble was too big to fit in the door! They tried shoving it. They tried jumping on it. No matter what they did, it just wouldn’t fit in the little door.
Bug thought for a minute, and then told his friend, "I know! We must eat some of the crumble, and then it will fit. But you must come and share with me, for you left all of your crumbles behind to save me, and there is far too much here for me to eat on my own." Lady Bug happily agreed, for she liked blueberry muffin crumbles very much herself.
And so, they had a glorious picnic in the shade of the dandelion trees, feasting until they were full on Bug's favorite food in the whole world, with some sweet Rose Petal nectar to drink.
Note: Below is the "revised" version. Several of you suggested filling out the end, so I tried to do that a little better. Let me know what you think--do you like this version better, or the old one?
BUG
Bug lived in a quiet corner of the world, deep in the shade of some dandelion trees, near the great Gutterspout River that only ran when it rained.
His home was a lovely little hole, dug in the warm ground with a friendly little entrance at the top. Next to his door was a little welcome mat, made of grass, for Bug loved visitors.
His nearest neighbor and dearest friend was Lady Bug, who lived in a vast house in a mushroom. Sometimes she would come calling with a large blueberry muffin crumble in her hands, because she knew that blueberry muffin crumbles, though rare, were Bug's favorite food in the whole world.
One beautiful summer morning, Lady Bug came by and asked Bug if he would like to go crumble hunting with her. "Blueberry muffin crumble hunting?" he asked hopefully. "Maybe," she kindly replied, "but we might find other kinds of crumbles as well." He pulled his grass mat over the entrance of his door, and they set out.
First they happened by his very old neighbor, Sir Centipede. Sir Centipede smiled and waved his many hands. "Good morning!" they called to him.
Further down the lane was the huge Ant family. "Hello! Where are you going?" all the little ants cried as they clamored about. "We are going crumble hunting." said Bug importantly. "Can we come?" they all begged. Oh dear! They would never find enough crumbles to feed this many little ants. But Mama Ant said, "No, children. For we must dig in our house and make more room for more baby ants." With a wave, Bug and Lady Bug went on.
Gathering small crumbles as they went, soon they came to the center of town. Here, there were many large and strange bugs to be seen. Bug could see katydid taxis, beetles cleaning the street, spiders going shopping, and praying mantis policemen. So many bugs, each of them beautiful. Each of them busy!
Soon they walked out of the center of town, and came closer to the most dangerous part of their world. Every bug was afraid to come here, and only the bravest bugs came. This was where the terrible, frightening SHOE MONSTER lived.
With a huge TROMP, TROMP, TROMP the Shoe Monster would come--crushing every bug in it's path! You had to be very careful.
But this was also where the very best crumbles were to be found--especially the rare blueberry muffin crumble, so Lady Bug and Bug bravely went gathering crumbles.
Just then, up ahead, Bug spied the biggest blueberry muffin crumble he had ever seen. He dropped his armful of cheese crumbles and dry cracker crumbles and rushed toward it.
Right as he reached the crumble with delight, he heard it coming. TROMPING, TROMPING, TROMPING. "Bug! The Shoe Monster!" cried Lady Bug. He scooped up the crumble, but it was too heavy--he could not run! The great shadow fell across the ground and darkened the sun. Bug trembled with fear.
But the brave Lady Bug dropped her crumbles, spread her wings, and flew to scoop up her friend Bug. "Hold on tight!" she said, and he did. He held on to that blueberry muffin crumble with all his might, and they flew away--back to the center of town.
"Shwew!" said Bug, laughing. "That was close." "Yes," said Lady Bug, "but that crumble is big enough to last you for days!" Happily, Lady Bug helped Bug to carry the huge blueberry muffin crumble back to his house.
When they got there the crumble was too big to fit in the door! They tried shoving it. They tried jumping on it. No matter what they did, it just wouldn’t fit in the little door.
Bug thought for a minute, and then told his friend, "I know! We must eat some of the crumble, and then it will fit. But you must come and share with me, for you left all of your crumbles behind to save me, and there is far too much here for me to eat on my own." Lady Bug happily agreed, for she liked blueberry muffin crumbles very much herself.
And so, they had a glorious picnic in the shade of the dandelion trees, feasting until they were full on Bug's favorite food in the whole world, with some sweet Rose Petal nectar to drink.
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