Pure Imagination

One night when Stella was three, I made up a bed time story for her, interweaving various story lines from her favorite cartoons - Caillou, Olivia, The Care Bears - something about lemonade being too salty for the Care Bears who had been out hiking in the forest and were thirsty. Her face beamed the whole time I told her the story.

As soon as I said, "the end" Stella said, "I tell a story now." She basically retold the story I had just told her, only she added "and they caught a whiff, what's that awful smell" from one of her current favorite books, "Move Over Rover" and a couple of other personal elaborations, mostly about bodily functions.

When she said, "the end" I said, "It's time for bed" and tucked the covers up to her chin. Stella touched her forehead and said, "Is our stories from our brains?" I said, enthusiastically, "Yes! Our stories come from our brains." I was excited she had remembered a previous conversation we had about what's inside our heads.

Then Stella asked, with no hint of joking, "Where the TV inside our head?"

I chuckled, "We don't have TVs inside our heads. We use our imaginations to tell stories."

"Oh, like Willy Wonka," Stella nodded her head as if it all made sense to her now. Just as I only know classical music from watching cartoons, I see my daughter is also getting quite a decent pop culture education.