Last week, G asked me to tell her a story. Since Little Red Riding Hood was on her top, I decided to go with that. As I started to tell the story, I realized that I didn't actually remember it so I started winging it while trying to stick with the basics that I remembered. Then, as I was going along, what I did remember seemed a little *much* for a 2 year old. So in my version, the big bad wolf promised to be nice and everyone had ice cream together. I have a feeling that I will not be adding "children's book author" to my resume at any point in the future...
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