So my kid wrote a book. (Thank you to her sitter for recording it for her. You're like Milton's daughters. Truly.)
It's a book about a dragon. That would be charming, except she named the dragon . . . wait for it . . . Elisabeth. That's right. My kid thinks I'm a dragon.
It's okay, though, because she makes a point of noting that this is a "nice dragon." In fact, she's such a nice dragon that she rescues a little girl named Eleanor and a little boy named Matthew. Together, the three of them go on to rescue other little children.
And the best part? (Sorry. **SPOILER ALERT**)
THE DRAGON DOESN'T EAT THE CHILDREN!
Given its inauspicious start, the story ends about as well as I could've hoped. Stay tuned for a sequel, in which the dragon has a really crappy morning and DOES eat the children. Perhaps Matty will survive to dictate that one. If he ever starts talking.
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