Benjamin has fallen in love with storytelling. He’s always loved it when we read to him, and he’s been “reading” (reciting the stories from books that he has memorized) for about 6 months. But, until recently, he hasn’t considered it a “real” story unless it comes from a book.

Recently (and I don’t know why it has changed) he has started to make up stories, and to ask me to do the same. I love it — it’s fun and it comes easily to me to invent a story, and I’m not sure there is anything cooler than hearing him tell one (most often about Angry Birds, or Lightning McQueen, or sometimes a nearly verbatim recitation of a story I just told — I need to teach him about copyright infringement). He’s a pretty creative guy, though, and he tells some very good ones.

They always start with “One day . . . ” and end with, “. . . and they all lived happily ever after. The end.” I love it. I love watching him learn and try new things and find new ways of expressing himself. And I love hearing his happily ever after stories. They’re all my favorite.