^{Originally published on BabyCenter.com January 21, 2014}

My son was in a particularly whiny mood one night and wanted a story about dinosaurs and trains. Our e-copy of All Aboard the Dino Train by Deb Lund and Howard Fine was unavailable and everybody in the house was exhausted. Desperate for the sweet release of bedtime, I crafted the following impromptu story, which has since become a big hit with my son. (It turns out that two-year-olds have odd tastes.)

***

Once upon a time, there was a purple dinosaur named Teddy the Triceratops. Teddy owned a big, green dinosaur train that he loved to ride on with his friends. But, as typically happens to things that get a lot of use, one day the dinosaur train got old and broke down.

Teddy was very sad.

Seeing how sad he was, two of Teddy’s friends, Trixie the Tyrannosaurus and Allie the Anklyosaurus, told him about some special coal that could help the train run again. That coal was in the Farthest Mountain, and all three of the friends set off to find it.

The journey was long and left them all very tired, but after many hours of walking they made it to the Farthest Mountain. But when they got there, there was a big, red, mean-looking brachiosaurus named Benny who wouldn’t let them pass.

“No one gets past me,” said Benny.

Then Trixie stepped forward and said, “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you with your head up so high. Could you please come a little closer and repeat that?”

Benny bent his long neck and moved a little bit closer to Trixie. “No one gets past me.”

Trixie said, “I still can’t hear you. Could you come a little closer?”

Benny moved still closer and said, “No one gets past—”

But before he could finish, Trixie lunged at him and grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground. [Note: this part isn’t complete unless you also tackle your child and pin him/her.] This allowed Teddy and Allie to run past Benny and get up the mountain.

Near the top of the mountain, Teddy and Allie found the cavern with the special coal, but it was blocked by a large boulder. Luckily, Allie had a hard club-like tail. He took a deep breath, and…

Crack!

Crack!

CRACK!

The boulder broke apart and the special coal came pouring out. Teddy gathered it all up in a special bucket that he hung around his horns, and the two ran down the mountain as fast as they could go. At the bottom of the mountain they found that Trixie and Benny had stopped fighting. Trixie had told Benny about the dinosaur train, and Benny wanted to see what it looked like. He offered to help the friends fix it.

All four friends started walking back to the dinosaur train. The journey was long, but Benny kept their spirits up by singing songs and telling stories. When they got to the dinosaur train, Teddy put in the special coal and it let out a loud whistle.

“WHEEEEEEEEE!”

The friends all got in the dinosaur train and it started moving again. Benny was particularly excited, as he got to stick his long neck out the back and eat the leaves off the trees as they flew past. Everybody was very happy, and they all lived happily ever after.

***

This is not really my strongest work – it’s certainly no Greystone Valley. However, it has received rave reviews from its audience of two (my son wants to hear it every night and my daughter gives me a smile which I can only assume is her way of showing appreciation for my impromptu storytelling ability).

I do admit that the story has the big flaw of putting a brachiosaurus in a tale that is otherwise clearly set in the Cretaceous era, and I hope I haven’t permanently damaged my son’s Paleolithic learning curve as a result.

My son had a lot of input in the initial telling of the story, and here is what I learned from his editorial interference:

1) Colors are important. This is probably because my son is still learning his colors, but he really likes to know what color the trains and dinosaurs are. For my own sanity, I did make sure that the purple dinosaur was not a Tyrannosaurus.

2) Feelings need to be stated explicitly. This flies in the face of the biggest storytelling rule I know, which is “Show, don’t tell.” However, my son wanted a one-word description of how everybody felt, especially if they were happy or sad.

3) Accessories help. Maybe this is a result of the TV culture we live in, but my son really likes to have his green toy train handy when I’m describing the green dinosaur train. I guess if I illustrated the story and had pictures I could show him, the accessory might not be as necessary.

4) There’s no room to change the story. Remember when I mentioned my shame for putting a brachiosaurus in the Cretaceous era? Well, that mistake is there forever. Whenever I deviate from the story as I originally told it, my son stops me with a stern, “No, Daddy. Tell it right.” I am a slave to my audience.

_{Featured Image: London looks, CC BY 2.0, cropped and resized}