Storytime, by Ella

Last night Ella and I went out to run some errands.  She said, "Mama, would you like to hear a story?"  As I have stated before, this doesn't happen that often, so I immediately said, "HOLLAH!" and raised the roof with my hands.  Well, I might have just said, "Yes, Ella.  I would love to!,"  but you know what I was doing on the inside.  This was the story:

Once upon a time, there was a guinea pig named Little Whistle {side note - there is a Little Whistle series of books by Cynthia Rylant.  Very cute books.  Not like the rest of this story at all}.  Little Whistle lived with some lions.  They bit him in the face.  But they didn't like him.  So they died.  And Little Whistle went home and got a band aid for his face. 

The End

Just when I began to question the mental health of my child, I remembered my sister, who used to write stories that earned her the name Psycho by my friends.  She's grown into a normal, well adjusted member of society, so I guess there's hope.

Hmmmmmmmm.