It’s Back to School Time, so that means more Non-fiction Fiction stories. For those of you new to Blog, these are stories that I make up on the spot while carting the kids to school. While stuck in traffic, or going 75mph on the 134. (By the way it is THE 134, not Route 134. Not Highway 134. Not I-134. The 134.) You see, there are hurdles.
As an aside, I come from a long line of (pardon the French) Bullshitters. Enormously wild Bullshitters who could spin a yarn that was true while being completely devoid of actual facts. I hope to instill in the girls the ability to get to the Truth, Truth be damned.
Julianna (she’s eight): Daddy, Daddy… Tell us about the time you climbed Mount Everest. (Totally on her own…)
Isabella (she’s 5, and has no idea what Mount Everest is): Yeah! Mountain Everest!
Me: Oh, Wow! The time I climbed Mount Everest! Everything I’m about to tell you is absolutely true.
J: Yeah, yeah… whatever.
Me: Ok. So I was climbing Mount Everest.
Iz: Was it cold?
Me: Yes, Honey… I had a jacket
Iz: Was there a McDonalds?
Me: No, Sweetie. No McDonalds. No Happy Meals. Please, focus…
(Remember I’m making this up on the spot…)
Me: So, I have a tent and some food and some clothes. I go up the mountain.
J: Did you bring air in a can?
Me: Yes, a can of air. Can I please tell this story?
Kids (in stereo): Yes….
Me: So, I’m half way up the Mountain when I see some strange creature off in the distance.
J: Was it the Loch Ness Monster?
Me: Good try. Wrong climate. Also, non-aquatic and bi-pedal. (Not sure a five-year-old understands.)
Iz: Did it have wings? (Certain, the five-year-old doesn’t understand.)
Me: No, Honey… (dramatically), I head toward the Monster.
J: Noooooo! That’s not safe! You could get hurt!
Me: Sorry, Honey. It’s the Abominable SnowMan!!!
I keep going. Then I twist my ankle in the snow. Owww! That hurts!
J: Told ya!
Me (Before I can smack the self-righteousness off her face (totally kidding, of course)): The Monster Has Me!!!
Iz: Did the Obama-al Snowman capture you?
Me: “Abominable,” Honey. President Obama had nothing to do with this. And, yes, he helped me.
Me: No, Sweetie. Please listen.
J: Helped you?!
Me: So, I’ve hurt my ankle. I can’t walk. The Monster comes up to me.
Iz: Is he going to eat you?
Me: I hope not. I don’t know. Again… Focus. He picks me up and carries me to the secret elevator. Inside the mountain!
J: How many floors did it have? Did you push all the buttons.
Me: If I could hit you and get away with it, I would. No, Sweetie. There was one button: The Top of the World!!!
Iz: Did you push it? Did you? Did you?!
Me: Well, um. Yeah.
J: Did you go with the monster? To the top?
Me: Actually no. The Obama monster had to go home and cook dinner. (Remember, I’m making this up on the spot. And, by that, I mean I am reporting the actual facts as I recall. Non-fiction fiction.)
Iz: So, you went to the top?!
Iz: What did you see?
Me: Honestly, it was kind of cloudy. Lots of fog. But, then the space aliens came.
J & Iz: Aliens!
Me: Oh look. We’re at school. Sorry, girls. Gotta move along.
J: But, Daddy…