Lately, Asher has been requesting stories. Stories without books. He wants me to tell him tales of his train friends on the Island of Sodor. He gives me a title, "Frank's Day Off" or "Peter Sam and the Incline" and I must instantly come up with an imaginative, action-packed story using proper train names and train terminology. I have no imagination. I feel my brain literally stretching inside my head to come up with original plot lines. The whole ordeal gives me a headache.
But at the same time I love it.
Asher curls up on my lap, puts his little arms around me, and listens attentively. Occasionally, he will whisper hints if I misname a train or mix up my Island of Sodor geography. As soon as I gasp out a final "The End", Asher always says, "that was a really great story, Mommy." Even if it really wasn't.
It is all happening so fast. Next year he will be in full-day kindergarten. Soon he will outgrow my lap completely. Thomas the Train and Curious George will be replaced by.....I can't even guess....but it won't be nearly as wholesome. The only thing I know for sure is that my days of snuggles and story telling are numbered.