It never fails, Miss Peach gets in the tub, dunks her head under the soapy suds, comes back up and says: "Mommy, tell me a story."
Straight up...I've run out of made up stories. Usually, I'm tired, and I just. got. nuthin'.
SO...I've started telling stories about my life growing up on a farm. (What...you didn't know I grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere?)
I don't know how/why this popped into my head...but it did...and oddly enough...it's true.
When I was a kiddo, there was always an old farm truck parked in between the barn, and the house. All farm houses have an old truck that you use to cart whatever from point A...across a field to point B.
In my head, this truck is blue and rusty. Being a tom boy, my best friend was Steve. We played ALL the time.
One of our favorite games...and it pains me to admit this...was Dukes of Hazzard.
"How..." you ask "do you play Dukes of Hazzard?"
OK...the old farm truck would be parked in the driveway with the windows down. I would be in the drivers seat...hands on the wheel miming a grand getaway. I would then look back at the imaginary bad guys on our tail...and I'd say "I'm going out...take the wheel!"
I would then...climb out of the truck, through the window...go over the top of it...for what ever reason completely escapes me. There was no gun fighting...so what exactly I was doing on the top of the truck...I couldn't even begin to tell you. Eventually...I'd climb back in the passenger side window.
Steve would scoot over and take the wheel while the climbing nonsense was going on...and he'd drive us away from the bad guys for a while. Then...he'd look at me and say "I'm going out...take the wheel!"
...and it would go on...and on...
I have no idea why this was SO FUN to us...and we'd play it for hours and hours.
FWIW...Miss Peach thought it sounded like loads of fun...so there you go;)