I’ve spoken about my younger daughter having stories to tell.
She knows fact from fiction because she has a mother as a writer, So her stories are stories from her imagination that she’s thought of herself.
Most people who take Jacque always say, Your daughter tells the most fascinating stories. I can’t stop listening to her.
Today’s story was as follows:
Momma, Momma, Momma
(I glance her way while I’m still writing the terrible-ness of Jen in The Mysterious Mr. Black.)
If my father was a superhero and he could fly and you had laser vision, I would have both of your powers. Maggie would only have your powers and Zech would fly.
And we’d go around and fight crime and help kids that need help.
I answer: Yes, Jacque.
Momma, Momma, Momma
I take my eyes off my work and look at her fully.
Can you have another power? she asks.
So you want me to have two powers? I ask.
She looks as if this is doable. Yeah.
It’s your story Jacque. You can do whatever you want. I say this as a grand gesture of queenly nature.
I want you to have super strength and I’ll have three powers.
I chuckle. Is that all?
Yeah (for now)
She’s quiet for a moment as we’re watching Season One Legend of the Seeker Episodes.
In a quiet voice she says, And I can fight real good and I fight everyone in slow motion.
Yes, Jacque, I say in my grand mother voice bequeathing her imagination power over the universe as I return back into the story and 75% of my brain has gone back into Jen’s head of The Mysterious Mr. Black. Anything else?
And when you get old, you’ll still have all your powers and you fight crime for old people.
I guess in her head, superheroes only help out their age group.
Wow! The brain of an 8 yr old works in mysterious ways.
I stop typing and go over to my shelf where I have school supplies stocked. I get a pencil and a new notebook. Handing it to her, I say, hey Jacque, can you write this story down.
She looks like I’m handing her gifts at Christmas because the notebook has flowers on it. (I picked that one on purpose.)
Grabbing my gifts she runs out the room happy as a lark. Every once in a while, she calls in: Momma how do you spell such and such words, but she doesn’t bother me at all for close to three hours.
Wa-hoo. I did five episodes of Legend of the Seeker and over ten thousand words.
She returned with fifteen written pages in very large print of her story with of course added features and pictures.
I’ll post it later. It’s quite fascinating.