Mama Blogga has a group writing project that’s right up my alley this month. It’s simple: "I’m grateful for my children because…" Now, I could go on at length as to why I am grateful for my children. I could talk about how I’ve been a parent my entire adult life and they have made my life a great, fun rollercoaster filled with joy and pain. But I won’t. No, I’m grateful for my children for a much simpler reason. Because they think my old, OLD stories and songs and jokes are great and new and wonderful.

"Tell me a story, Mommy," SpiderMan said to me at lunch today. I was fresh out of stories. I started to tell  him the one about the little red hen, but mixed it up with Chicken Little and couldn’t remember what was so remarkable about the sky falling, or how the story ended, so I resorted to a story I know very well.

"Let me tell you a little story about a man named Jed," I said, hoping Mr. Ivy wouldn’t crack up laughing and give the story away. "He was a poor mountaineer, he was barely able to keep his family fed." SpiderMan looked at me, rapt with attention, wondering what would happen to ol’ Jed.

"One day," I continued, "He was out hunting for food, when he fired a shot, and up from the ground came bubbling crude."

"Oil, that is," Mr. Ivy chimed in. "Black gold, Texas tea."

"Well, the next thing you know, ol’ Jed had become a millionaire. His family told him to move away from the hills. They said California was the place he wanted to be," I said. SpiderMan started jumping around and chanting, "California! California!" Spidey’s impressed with California. It is where my mother-in-law fortunately lives. I say fortunately because we live 2,000 miles away. Yes, California is a perfect place for a mother-in-law to live when you are living in Tennessee.

"So, what happened?" asked Spidey. "Did they move to California?"

"Yes," I said, barely able to contain my laughter. "They loaded up the truck and they moved to Beverly. Hills, that is."

"They have swimming pools and movie stars there," said Mr. Ivy. Spidey looked at us with wide eyes. We had told him an awesome story. I can’t wait until tomorrow when I tell him to sit right back so he can hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip. Sung to the tune of Amazing Grace, of course. I have many talents, when you view me through the eyes of a 4 year old.