Walk out my front door, and you’ll go through a small gathering of trees. Walk through these trees and you be atop a small hill, that slopes down into a huge field. Throughout the year, the field serves as a play area for Sophie and I. We go sledding, we play soccer or just run around. Surrounding the field is an even thicker wooded area. More trees and even a small pond. Whenever I am tramping through the woods, it feels like I am hours away from anything, but if I am still, I can hear the cars rushing by off of 694.
When Sophie and I walk through the woods, we make up stories about the goblins who live in the woods. Sophie is five and not afraid of anything. Goblins, wolves, witches, members of the Tea Party, aliens, ghosts, Creed, and other monsters don’t bother her one bit. It’s important for storytellers to just tell a story and Sophie is great and making stuff up. I love listening to her and hearing what is on her mind.
On our various adventures in the woods, we often bring our dog Ernie with us. Sophie adores Ernie and many of her stories involve him in some way. Last week my wife opened the front door and Ernie ran out to do what dogs do outside. A few minutes, Ernie is running full tilt back to the house with a cookie in his mouth. No idea where he got it. Over the next day or so, he did this two more times. I asked Sophie where she thought Ernie was getting these cookies. She went on to tell me. I thought her explanation was very imaginative and probably true so I thought I’d draw it.