Wife has started telling Little Miss a bed time story she has made up for her. It is all about a Princess who dances in her fairy costume, putting on a show for the whole extended circle of family and friends (who all have to be named individually). Of course everyone things this is the greatest most magical show they have ever seen etc. etc.
It is all extremely cute and adorable as Little Miss laps this up - as all toddler would. Each night the story gets a little more elaborate, with tonights addition being that of a rain dance as it is raining here. I will be honest that it is quite the production and Wife should be proud of her efforts.
But here is the rub. I tell absolutely crap stories. It has taken me two years to get to the point where I don’t read even simple children’s books in a bleak monotone, so the odds of me getting this story correct are next to nil.
And you all know how toddlers can be - one variation from a theme and it is like you have just run over the family dog or something. This is all going to end in tears I just know it.
It’s official, Wife is just never allowed to be away at story time, because I just aren’t up to it…
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Ow! Lovely story - Tough act to follow indeed.
If it’s of any encouragement, I am sure there are things you can do much better than Wife, and Little Miss would know that for sure.
My boys know if it comes to any of those video games they’ll just have to wait for Daddy. They’ve stopped bugging me to put it on. Mommy’s no good at all - can’t even get it on the TV.
Cheers!
I have discovered my forte when it comes to looking after Little Miss in the last couple of days. I am in charge of ‘Big Swings’ - apparently I am the only one allowed to push her really high on her swing.
It just reinforces the stereotype that Wife is the brains of the operation, while I am not real bright but can lift heavy things……