The Garden Story of Us



Hank:  Mama you should write a story about gardens.

Me: Why?  There are already so many great stories about gardens: Planting A Rainbow,  The Good Brown Earth,  The Carrot Seed,  Mrs. Spitzer’s Garden,  The Gardner.

Hank:  But those stories are not by you.  They are by those people.  You should write a story about gardens.  Your story.

Me:  Why?

Hank:  (thinking) Because only you can write your story.  And it would be good.  And I would know it because I know you.

Me: I think we just wrote it.

Hank:  When?

Me:  Just now.  You and I.  This is a story about a garden.

Hank:  I will get my canetas (markers) you get the lapis (crayons).  You write the words.  I will write H-A-N-K and we will draw the pictures together.

Me: What should our story be called?

Hank:  (pause) Us.  The garden story of us.

Me: (writing it all down)


Before School



Me:  Hank, get your boots please.

Hank:  (scamper)

Me:  (bending to tie Hank’s shoes) Can you do the cross and tuck. Then tell the story while I tie the bunny ears.

Hank: Of course…  cross… tuck… Pull!  There.  (As I tie both shoes) Once there was a bunny named peter and he went into Mr. McGreggor’s garden and he got caught and jumped into a whole and Mr. McGregor grabbed him by the ears, BUT peter was wearing a coat and wiggled out and ran home.  The End.

Me:  Good job.

Hank:  Mama, what are you going to do today?

Me:  Well, I am going to work on some stories and I need to jump into my manuscript and then there is perpetual laundry and emails.

Hank:  Are you drawing?

Me:  I draw every day.  Why?  What do you have in mind?

Hank:  Mama, if you have time, could you please draw more buttercup houses and the people who live there?  Like the story we were writing this weekend.

Me:  Sure.  What do the people look like?

Hank:  (with pinched finger gestures and squinty eyes) Well they’re teensy.  One is a man with blonde hair, like mine.

Me:  The color of ripe pears?

Hank:  Yes and he has green eyes and ears and a mouth.

Me:  I am pretty sure I can work on that.

Hank:  Oh thank you.  See you!

Me: Have a great day.  I will!

Hank: I will too!

buttercup houses 3


Midway through a family conversation

mommy and baby

Me:  You are correct!

Hank:  What does correct mean?

Me:  It means that you have the right idea. The correct answer is the answer that was needed.  Thank you for asking what correct means.  That is very scholarly of you.  I am forever asking Pai what words mean and he is forever referring me to the dictionary.  It started when we were first dating when he assumed I would know what terse meant.

Pai: Well, you do now.

Me:  That is correct!

Hank:  And then you chose to have a baby!

Me:  Well, not that day, but later on yes and you are that baby.

Hank:  And I was in your belly and I kicked and kicked.

Pai:  You kicked because you were learning how to move and because you were inside Mommy she felt it.

Me:  Oh man did I! I walked around with a bag of frozen bag of peas on my belly for three months.

Hank:  (roaring with laughter) Peas! Mama, that is silly business!

Me:  You are correct-a-mundo.

Hank:  (doubled over with laughter)

Pai:  He’ll never see a pea the same again.

Hank: (positively purple with laughter)