When we were little, my siblings and I loved bed time stories. my dad was the usual target.
Every night, we would beg and beg my father to tell us one of his tales.
When he was really sleepy this is how it would go.
Us: Papa! Papa! Tell a story la!
Papa: aiyo not today la
Us: tell la tell la! *jumps on bed*
Papa: *yawnnnnnn* ok ok. Once a upon a time...
Us: *sshh...quiet...papa started...
Papa: once upon a time....
Us: yesss?? Yessss??
Papa: there was a dog....
Us: oooohhhh
Papa: whose name was rover...
Us: Oh ok..then??
Papa: once there was a dog whose name was rover and....the story is over...*smiles*
On days he did prepare, my siblings and I never got fairy tales with happy endings. My dad preferred telling us scary stories from his past, or gory little tales that he had heard...to...put us to sleep.
p.s. Papa, If you're reading this. I loved all those stories!
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