Left-Brain Fairy Tale

“Let me tell you a story,” I said to my millennial grandson when he was about nine. 

He acquiesced, probably out of politeness to his aged grandmother.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who lived up on the top of that mountain,” I gestured towards the peak towering above our village.

“Was she a dwarf?” he asked.

“Er – I’m not sure,” I hadn’t developed my story quite to that point.

“She was the daughter of the King of the Mountain …”

“The King of the Mountain was a dwarf,” he stated in an irrefutable tone. 

I considered that irrelevant and continued:

“… and she spent most of her time wandering around exploring the …”

“Did she have a snowboard?”

“A snowboard?”

“There’s a lot of snow up there in winter.” He was, of course, right. “Or skis. She might have had a sledge.”

“Well, maybe she did, but she was a magical princess and she could fly …”

“Did she paraglide? Or did she sky-dive?”

“I think she sort of floated on the breeze …”

“In a wingsuit?”

My mental image of my fairy princess drifting like thistledown over the mountaintops began to waver.

“Sometimes she rode on the back of an eagle, and …”

“Oh, so she must have been a dwarf. Or a midget.”

I decided to ignore this and continued with my depiction of my beautiful magical princess.

“One time she flew into a rainbow, and took it for a cloak that she wrapped around her …”

“Did she get wet?”

“Wet?”

He rolled his eyes and patiently mansplained to me that a rainbow is the result of light being refracted through raindrops, so it would inevitably be wet. I valiantly returned to my story.

“She was very loving. She knew and took care of all the animals that lived on the mountain …”

“A lot of them have fleas. Was she a vet?”

At this point, I gave up.

“Would you like to tell me a story?” I asked.

“Not really, Granny. I’d rather play Minecraft.”

14 thoughts on “Left-Brain Fairy Tale

  1. We’ve been left behind… Almost! I aim valiantly to trog on.. I do enjoy fiddling with my android but have not yet totally joined the ‘woke’ society, whatever that means. As to gender varieties I have to have these explained to me by my 16 year old granddaughter. I’d hate to upset them/they inadvertently. Life can seem so complicated at times.

  2. Lord have mercy! Unlike your millennial grandson and my millennial children, I used to sit at the feet of my grandpa for what seemd like hours, listening to his stories. He was born in 1902, and he was the product of a long, oral tradition. He couldn’t read or write, but oh how he coud tell a story. I wish I had written them down.

    • Many years ago, my ex-husband recorded his grandmother telling some of her stories – spellbinding! Then his cousin inadvertently taped the Beatles over it all. Grrr!! Youth has no respect!!!

  3. This is funny! And it actually reminds me of a friend. Whenever I start to relate some incident to her, she diverts with questions that would be answered in time, if she’d wait for me to get there. (But really, this probably has a lot to do with my poor storytelling skills.)

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