My kids were at my mom and dad's for a few days this week. We missed them terribly, but we always appreciate the few days of sleep and catching up on chores. Anyway, while the kids were there my mom started telling them "stories" about when Jona and I were kids.
There was one story in particular. When we were small, I was probably about four or five years old, we lived in this house with a big apple tree orchard next to it, we called it the Apple Tree House. One day we were playing out in the orchard when the neighbors big old goat got out of his pen. He chased Jona(then about 2 or 3 years old) and I across the yard. We couldn't make it all the way to the house, but we made it to the car and climbed on top of the car and that goat had us totally stranded on top of our car. Meanwhile, my mom heard us and being quite scared of the goat herself, finally got a broom and chased it away.
My mom was telling my kids this story and they were enraptured. All week long Grace has kept mumbling about that "mean ole' billy goat that tried to eat my mama." I'm not sure how she got the eating part, but she has her own take on things!