The Giant Turtle has chased us up the stairs. The only safe spot is the bunk-bed, burrowed down deep beneath the covers.
Me and Jude are burrowed deep.
"The Giant Turtle can't get us in here, right?" he whispers.
"Right!" I whisper back. "Don't worry, he probably got stuck on the stairs. He's too FAT to get all the way up."
Jude giggles. Anytime I say the world FAT he laughs hysterically. Fat is just a funny word. You can insert fat into any sentence and it's instantly funny.
"Can you tell me another story about Captain Rigatoni?" he asks.
"OK," I say.
And this is how my day goes. I am not the best housekeeper. Sometimes dishes get crusty in the sink, the laundry piles up, I am not good at planning menus.
But I know how to play with my children. I like to sink into their world. I know how to tell them stories about Captain Rigatoni and his Golden Eagle.
And then there's that other story about the Pirate Montague who took in five wandering children. They had grand adventures on the open sea. Until Jesse, the youngest child, overheard the Pirate conspiring to sell them off in exchange for.....
but that's another story.