Story-telling is not just for bedtime. Some mornings, I wake up earlier than necessary and can’t fall back to sleep. I cuddle up to the sleeping Golden Boy, and begin telling him a story about my childhood, and this is how I have fun.

“When I was a child, I was very unimaginative. I had a pink teddy bear, which I called Pinky. I had a brown teddy bear, which I called Browny. I had a grey teddy bear, but because Grey-y didn’t work, I called him Wolfie”.

As I anticipated, even in his early morning doze, the Golden Boy found this hilarious, and began sleep-laughing. Encouraged by the success of my little Proustian narrative, I continue: “I had a Sindy doll, and her name was Sindy. And I had one Barbie- not a trillion like the Princess!, and I called her, yes! Barbie!” By now, the Golden Boy is awake, and laughing loudly. But the story takes a slightly creepy turn.

“I had two small teddy bears which were exactly alike- actually one of them belonged to your uncle, and I pretended they were twins, and I called them Khers-y and Khers-oo. And then I pretended we were triplets, and I was the third bear, and I called myself Khers-ak“.

Khers means bear in farsi. The Golden Boy was no longer laughing. He stared at me, wide awake, and said “What was wrong with you?” He gets out of bed. The day starts.



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