What if every story was a universe we created?

Hey Diddle Diddle

The cat and the fiddle

The cow jumped over the moon.

The little dough laughed to see such a sight,

and the dish ran away with the spoon.

I have this story memorized by heart. It’s my son’s favorite 4 page cardboard book. He’s one years old, and he’s been staring at it for long enough to wear away the edges and all but disintegrate the spine.

One morning when my mom was visiting, I read it to Castor He shifted his smiling gaze between my face and the pictures in the book as Mom said “That book is just nonsense”. She thinks it’s funny, but so silly.

“Don’t listen to her Castor. This is a historic text,” I whispered into his ear, hoping he believes its words for as long as possible.

The Hey Diddle Diddle world is a beautiful one. Nature personifies and interacts in celebration. The night alone is a reason to come alive. I’d like to spend a few evenings there.

I’ve heard parents talk about the struggle of a child wanting to do the same thing over and over again. When Castor pulls Hey Diddle Diddle out and we read it three or four times before he pulls the cardboard from my grasp to run his hands over the frolicking characters, I escape. For a moment I always think every story we’ve written is a universe of its own, and of all the stories out there, this one lives among the best.

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