The car has always been a time for storytelling and these days, we spend a lot of time in the car. When my girls were younger, we would write stories in the air. “How would that sound if we wrote it like a story?” I’d ask. Now, the girls will often vie for airtime, recounting their days at school, sports, dance. Filling me in on the important things, working hard not to cut each other off. “I wasn’t done yet,” is a common gripe.

I don’t know how the conversation started yesterday on the way to drop Wren and Rose off at dance. I think Wren asked about G, a kindergartener who has found a special place in my heart. “Oh. I sat with him while he waited for the bus today. His last name has 15 letters and he’s writing a how-to book about feeding his dog…who is actually his big sister, Lolita. First you get the treat. Then you lure Lolita to do a trick. I didn’t get to hear the last page of his book because the bus came.”

Wren smiles. She likes kindergarten stories. “Do you have any other G stories?” she asks.

“No. But I have an L story.” I went on to recount my read aloud in first grade that day. L was very silly and called out a lot. I had heard that this had become his new thing. So after the read aloud, I asked if we could chat in the hall. “I was so surprised you were so silly today,” I said. “I never noticed that about you when I came to your class when you were in kindergarten. What’s going on?”

L looked at me very seriously. “Well, I’m funny now,” he said, a smirk creeping across his face.

I held back a smile. “I see. Well, when you’re funny, you have to learn when is a good time to be funny and when is not such a good time to be funny.”

By this point in the story, I know Wren will now be asking for more tales about L in the future.

“Oh. That wasn’t the end,” I went on.

“L looked at me with the most serious face and said, ‘I notice your lip is bleeding.’ Then I had to explain my cold sore and the talk about read aloud went right out the window.”

By the time my story ended, we were at the dance studio. Everyone got out smiling, and I realized there hadn’t been any drama. No arguing. No one annoyed with me.

Maybe school stories are a way to keep the peace.

Later that night, when I picked Wren up from dance, she greeted me with, “Hi Mom. I notice your lip is bleeding.”

The car has always been a place for storytelling in our family.

These days, it seems the stories travel both ways.

Where In The World Am I Writing From: I started this slice after a 7:00pm dance pickup, but had to pause for an 8:00pm dance drop off. I’m back at 9:30 to finish this one off…from the dining room table, sitting in the dark.