We have all been writing Christmas stories to send to my parents for Christmas. This is my three year old son Lincoln’s:
“Once upon a time it was Christmas and we were throwing snowballs and we hit a car. And then somebody hit another car. He hit somebody. HE throwed snowballs on the floor. And then Mommy comed outside and then we were throwing snowballs and then somebody hit a rock and hit our house. He throwed it at Luca and Luca got mad. Elka comed outside. Then Anna was coming outside and throwing snowballs at everyone, even Mommy and Luca and herself. And then we comed in the house and played Nintendo. And then Mommy played Nintendo with me and did all the levels. And then Mommy played a kid game on her computer. And then Mommy played with kid toys. And then Dad comed home and drinked all of Mommy’s diet coke. And then Dad played two player on Banjo Kazooie (Nintendo game). And then Daddy ate all of Mommies peanuts. And then we had hot chocolate. And then Mommy dranked a lot of diet cokes.
The End.”
Okay, I really don’t drink THAT much diet coke…or maybe I do. I asked him if Santa was going to be in the story at all and he told me, “No! it isn’t even Christmas yet.” Like, duh Mom.
I tried to get Anna to tell me a story that I could write down, but all I got from her was, “Once upon a time there was a dragon and it ate Lincoln. The end”. I will try to get her attention enough tonight to at least give it a happy ending.
Luca did one all on her own. She was making a Christmas card for her teacher and was drawing a yellow star on red paper, which inspired her story called “The Star Turned Orange”. It went like this, “Thr was star and it likt to play and wun day the star trnd oreng and was sad thn the sun kam and thn it trnd blu the end.” I thought it was pretty good for a five year old!
Whims 