"Bugs usually crawl and bugs usually fly and bugs usually eat things. And bugs climb trees and bugs crawl on feet and bugs crawl on phones and they swim in hot tubs and they lie down on beds and they sit in chairs. And they eat on the table. That's the end of my story. And then a big giant came down and locked them in a cage and then turned the switch off and took the monitor and then he took the car up to where he lives in the sky. And then he do-do-do (singing interlude here) then opener and downer closed and then the bugs can't sing. And then the bugs got washed away in the sink. That the end of my story. And one more thing happened in my story. And then an opener giant showed up and ran the garbage disposal. That's what happened in my story."
Okay, so stories told by a three-year-old provide plenty of editing potential, yes. But honestly, I was cracking up as he was telling this story because, if you think about it, bugs really do all those things! Okay, so now it's your turn. Choose a Blake picture below and send us a story. Blake will love getting your mail.
The problem for diggers is that they dig in the dirt, and the mud and the muck and get very dirty. One day the big digger Blake was so yucky from all the dirty digging that he couldn't go back into his nice clean garage-house. So the Crane and the Foreman brought out a bucket of sudsy digger bath water and Digger Blake submerged all his digger parts in the nice warm digger bath and he came out squeaky clean!!!!
ReplyDeleteDiggers are magical creatures. Sometimes a digger can transform himself into another form. I am no authority on fleets or diggers, so I can't say what forms diggers like Blake and Gavin can transform into. But I wonder if the green umbrella hat is not Gavin floating above Blake's head overseeing the road construction project?
ReplyDeleteThe picture of Blake on the new playground equipment here prompts this story from grandma B:
ReplyDeleteOne very windy summer day Blake and I went to a nearby playground together. This one was empty because no kids were at the elementary school. So Blake, not yet three, went on every slide, a curvy one, one with no rails, and the double so we could slide down side by side. He was the slidemaster! Since the slides were mastered we headed home. He was so tired after so much sliding in the big summer gusts that blew his fine curls and made his eyes squinch, that we stopped on the grassy hill and lay down. We looked up at the blue, blue sky and watched the mountainous, fast-moving clouds. I said, "Don't you love looking up at the clouds?" He said, "yes" then... "I need a carry." So he got one to the car where I buckled him in his car seat and we drove right home. Day done with memories of summer fun just Blake and B (that's me)!
B and Blake and the big puffy clouds over the playground in the last days of summer. __Lovely picture
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