my children

A Cinderella Story – Or Rather a Mozzarella Story

You all have heard me talk about my children before. It’s safe to say I’m one proud momma. My kids mean everything to me, and I take great pride in their accomplishments.

One thing that makes me extremely happy is that my daughter is as creative as me, if not more so. She can draw extremely well, and I’ve been told if it keeps up she will find herself in Art Excel one day. In addition, she’s also quite the storyteller and has been for years, since she was two, in fact. I have many cherished memories inside of my head of various stories she’s made up. I’ll never forget them.

Yesterday I was going through some of her school papers from this past school year and came across an assignment of hers that had me roaring with laughter. And you’re about to see why because I’ve taken the time to type it up exactly as she has it written.

The assignment was to write a Cinderella story. Beyond that, what it included was entirely up to each child. My Mini Me definitely used her creative muscle.



One day long ago there lived a piece of Mozzarella Cheese and 4 mean sisters. The sisters were pieces of Blue Cheese and it made them smell bad. On hot days they melted drops of blue cheese and they made Mozzarella Cheese clean up their melted blue cheese drops.

One day in the summer there was a dance at their school. So Mozzarella’s sisters asked their mother if they could could and they couldn’t. They got told if they did go they had to do all the dishes.

At 9:00 they snuck out to go. The Mozzarella Cheese got dressed to go when her sisters left to the dance.

At the dance the Mozzarella Cheese met a Marshmallow Prince and at 12:45 the Mozzarella Cheese was eating a golden cracker that the Marshmallow Prince gave her. Then she realized it was 12:45 and her and her mean sisters ran home because their mother would go in their room to check on them.

On the way Mozzarella dropped the golden cracker. The Marshmallow Prince found the golden cracker and left to see whose spit was the same. He found the Mozzarella Cheese and her spit was the same so they got married and lived happily ever after….as usual.

– By Mikala Ireland

My Son, the Storyteller

One of my greatest pleasures in life is it to watch my children flex their creative muscle. I’m a very creative person, as is my dad, so when we see my son and daughter drawing or writing/telling a story, we’re beyond thrilled.

Today, my very precocious three-year-old decided to share one of his tall tales with his Bampi, aka my father. And I thought I’d share it with all of you because it’s just too cute not to.

My son Blake told my father that he lost a tooth on Thursday night while at a train station. He was then given gifts by Hot Honey. (I don’t know who Hot Honey is, but my dad says she sounds like a stripper. And I must concur.) Of course, none of this happened. Blake was home with us all night long.

This is actually the second story Blake’s told us this week. His first one involved him being carried away by a moose down a path to Cabellas. The moose eventually returned him home to his bedroom. What happened in between being abducted and returned home is a mystery to me, but I’m sure in his mind, it was an adventure.

As you can see, Blake has a very wild imagination. It reminds me of his sister when she was that age and talking about her invisible friend Blue Kitty.

If you’re the parent of creative child, please feel free to leave a comment about some of their tallest tales. I love the way little minds work.