Each night, once the lights go out, a certain little someone tends to need a little persuading to stay in bed.
After night time readings with Mom, story books have lost their luster and the whispers from the living room seem more inviting. When it is father’s turn to parade him down the hall back to bed, he has come to know that a story will follow– one that is spun just for him, one in which he is the hero.
Last Monday night, my husband, a student at the local university, was asked to create and market a product over the course of 10 minutes as part of a class exercise.
He returned home with this little booklet.
With pen scrawled handwriting and crude marker illustrations, my son was delighted to have his book written down for him to hold.
I was delighted that my son would now always have this token of his childhood.
Now, not only would he have the sweet night time memories shared between he and his father, he will always be able to hold his father’s love in his hands.