Stories

Nora's latest obsession is stories. All day, she asks for stories from the adults around her. She'll ask for the story of one of the Disney princesses, or the 3 little pigs, or Goldilocks, or other such things. If it's my dad, she'll ask to hear about the She-Bear, or the nice wolf, or the magic bed (he makes up stories for her). But during our last beach trip, she made up her own story. It went something like this:

Cecilia threw a chicken in the river. Then the flies came and got all over Nora's shirt. Then it started to rain.

Amanda and I had the same question when first hearing the story from Nora (we didn't hear it together). Was it a live chicken or the kind you eat? Nora told Amanda it was the kind you eat. Amanda replied that in that case, throwing it in the river seemed wasteful. Later when I asked, it was a live chicken (a case of Nora avoiding censure? Perhaps).

Imaginary friends

I had secretly hoped that Nora would have imaginary friends. And just this week, two of them joined our family. They're actually imaginary pets. Last weekend, I took a walk with Nora in the stroller and heard her say "I have a doggy and I have a kitty cat and they are...somewhere." Excited, I asked their names. "The kitty cat is Little Golden Flower." I ask about the doggy. "His name is Little Golden Flower too." When you've got a name that awesome, why not duplicate it? She's into descriptive names lately. My favorite is a toy pony named Little Ice Cream Night.

Back to the walk though. Lo and behold, Little Golden Flower (the cat) came to join our walk. As we came to the top of a hill, I said "Nora, I'm gonna run down the hill, so you'd better pick up Little Golden Flower and hold on to her so she doesn't get hurt going downhill." "Oh," she said, "I'm sitting on her." That's one way to secure her.

We went on another walk yesterday, and Little Golden Flower the cat joined us again. As we got closer to home, we saw an elderly man out in his front yard. He greeted Nora and Lyda. Nora held up her hand, palm upright (apparently her hand became the cat for a moment). She bent her fingers forward and back a little as though her her hand was a puppet and said in a high-pitched voice, "I'm Little Golden Flower." The man just thought he was being waved to and happily waved back.