overthinking it

Whenever I bring the twins to bed, I tell them a story. Fiction on the spot. Sometimes they will provide input, large or small, a community effort. The challenge for me are two: come up with a good story, and don’t fret about reality.

Case in point. Last night the input from the twins was simply “a submarine”. For inspiration I thought of Jacques Cousteau, National Geographic. The characters, as is the case most of the time, would be two young girls. Maybe they make their own submarine? But out of what materials? Do they take it into a pool? The ocean? How do they get it to the ocean? What is their goal?

The questions came up in seconds, the answers took a little longer. Or, shall I say, it took a little longer to realize the questions were unnecessary. Yes, the girls, make their own submarine, but the only details as to materials were two school chairs and a bicycle for propulsion. Of course they take it into the ocean; and the details of how they get it there are irrelevant (“so Nancy and Pamela brought their submarine to the ocean, and climbed in between the crashing of waves”). There is no goal; it’s just simple adventure (they end up at a small island with lizards and birds everywhere, only to realize after lunch that they forgot to anchor their submarine and it started to float away).

When finished, the girls were still wake (often times they fall asleep) and both suggested that this story was one of the best ever. A reminder, that I need continually, is that at this wonderful age it’s not the details that matter.