Looking at my daughters, I am just amazed (and a bit scared) about how quickly they are growing up. One becomes a teen at the end of the year, the other is not far behind. Where did all the time go? Both of them have always loved hearing me tell them stories, preferably the made-up kind. But I’ve always felt I was pretty bad at telling interesting stories, so, more often than not, I pulled my stories out of a favorite book of fairy tales. Knowing what I know now, I regret not making them all up myself all these years. Heck, it’s not how good a yarn you can spin; it’s all about hanging together before bed time and connecting, right? Me? I plan to make the most out of the years we have left for made-up stories, before my girls grow-up too much more. So who wants to hear a story?
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