Rhett(4) is a story teller.
(I haven’t a clue where he gets it from.)
His stories are usually big. His speech is such that not all the words he says are understood by other humans. The cat seems to understand so I don’t want to speak for him.
Of all the stories he tells, my favorite are the hypothetical situations. There was this one while we were driving and stopped at a traffic signal:
Mommy, what if the stop light stopped working and a fixer man came and fixed it, but it couldn’t be fixed and the lights didn’t work and the fixer man needed to try and fix the light again, but he couldn’t carry the ladder to reach the light?
He also has a tendency for tall tales:
I saw a fire station built out of Legos and it was the biggest fire station in the whole world. The police lived there too. There wasn’t smoke but it all burned down.
The other evening he wanted to sleep on his large stuffed dog on the floor next to his bed. Not wanting to fight that battle, I agreed and tucked him in on top of the puppy. The next morning at breakfast he said…
Mommy, you moved me into my bed!
No. Were you in your bed when you woke up?
Yes. You moved me!
No. Your daddy must have moved you when he checked on you last night.
No. Daddy didn’t move me.
Who moved you then?
I think your daddy moved you.
No mommy. It was God.
I didn’t want to argue anymore. I remembered Blog-Stedman going up to check on him in the middle of the night. When I saw him later in the morning I asked if he had moved Rhett back to his bed.
Maybe it was God…