I recently renewed my fascination with Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland and in my rather misguided attempt to share this rediscovered wonder, I decided to read the story to Little Bear.
”Nope, already heard it.”
”You did not.”
”Yes, I did. Mom read it to all of us. Chapter book.”
”That’s a lie.”
”No it’s not.”
”What’s it about then?”
”I can’t remember everything, Gram. Just draw a story on my back. But not Alice.”
Ever since I can remember, Little Bear has wanted me to draw stories on his back at bedtime. It may have started with the oldest. I think it must have. There’s no set story. I make it up as I go along. Unfortunately I don’t always remember the details. Chapter One: I’ll begin and ramble along – much like the Alice crew actually – and when I’m asked for Chapter Two at the next bedtime, I struggle to remember the story line. Not Little Bear though. He is like my own personal nag/critic reminding me every time I fumble a detail.
I thought I pulled a fast one on him last night. I drew Chapter One: Down the Rabbt Hole on his back. And threw in a few teasers from later chapters. I figured he’d chuckle when they threw the baby around the kitchen only to discover the baby was a pig. And he did!
”Good trick, Gram. I know that’s the Alice story. No thanks. Just draw some words on my back and I’ll guess them. That’s what mom does.”
Little stinker. He wouldn’t have it said he enjoyed the story but I bet he’ll have me pick up where we left the next time he spends the night!
I had told him a little of the Cheshire Cat earlier in the day. I’m painting a set of nesting tables and am adopting some ‘wonderland’ details.
”Did you paint that cat, Gram?”
“Yes, I did.”
But never one to leave well enough alone, “Did you make it up yourself or did you copy it?”
What could I say?
Twice-loved. Alice, the little table, and the copied cat.