My daughter is really into story telling. She loves to hear stories of princesses, knights and dragons but she also loves for us to tell her stories about us.
Lately, she’s been on a kick where she asks me to tell her stories about me. Today, I realized that all my stories of the kind you would share for your “most embarrassing moment” at some cheesy mixer.
“Mom, tell me about the time you were riding the horse and it bucked you off.” (More like slid me over her head onto my bum. So humiliating for a wannabe cowgirl!)
or
“Mom, tell me about the time you thought that girl was playing with your hair but she was putting gum in it.” (the reason I hate gum to this day!)
or
“Mom, tell me about that story when you were in college and wearing your funny shoes and a backpack and you fell over backwards like a turtle right in front of everyone!.” (This happened in slow motion with my arms flaying wildly and my friend shouting, “NOOOooooo” with the weirdest delayed sound effect. Another student came over to me as soon as it happened - ostensibly to help me up. But, when he noticed me laughing hysterically on the ground (I really couldn’t get up!), he WALKED away and left me there.
Wait till she hears about the time I fainted in the middle of a gig - and I was the gig...
*Sigh.* She's going to think I'm so cool.
No comments:
Post a Comment