So personalized bedtime stories huh? Wanted to do something special for my kid Jamie’s birthday. Figured typing out a story starring him sounded awesome. Here’s how this hot mess went down.

The “Big Idea” Sparks

Was cleaning my attic last Tuesday, tripped over my own old storybooks covered in dust. Memories hit me like a truck. Bam! Thought: “Why not make Jamie his own hero in a story?” Sounded simple enough. Famous last words.

Phase One: Overthinking Central

Grabbed my laptop ready to write genius stuff. Blank screen laughed at me for 20 minutes. Typed “Jamie the Brave Explorer…”. Deleted it. Tried again. Felt stupid. Realized:

Didn’t know what adventure he’d actually like (space? dinosaurs?).
Forgot how kids think – mine cares more about talking cupcakes than plot.
Got paralyzed making it “perfect” instead of just fun.
Wasted an hour stressing over pirates vs. astronauts. Felt like an idiot.

The Messy Experiment

Gave up trying to be Tolkien. Grabbed a crayon (seriously) and some printer paper.

Drew Jamie riding a giant, grumpy duck named Gary.
Scrawled speech bubbles: “Gary quacked: ‘Your socks smell weird!'”
Got Jamie involved: “What should Gary steal next?” He yelled “DAD’S SOCKS!”
Laughed like maniacs scribbling this ridiculous duck heist. Was it good? Nope. Was it fun? Heck yes.

Cheater’s Way Worked

Found an old note app on my phone while hiding in the bathroom (dad life).

Jotted down Jamie’s nonsense duck story later.
Key moves:
Made him the boss character (decides where Gary flies).
Used his favorite phrases (“super duper yucky”).
Threw in real stuff like his worn-out blue hat.
Simplified like crazy: 5 sentences max per scene.
Read it back to him next night. Tiny dude giggled when Gary stole my ugly green socks. Meant more than any perfect story.

What Actually Stuck

Still doing it weeks later. My “pro tips” now?

Start ugly. Crayons beat writer’s block every time.
Steal their life. Their teddy bear? Their weird fear of broccoli? Gold.
Let them co-write. Kids have zero filter. It’s hilarious.
Forget fancy words. Say “super stinky” not “malodorous.” Duh.
Point isn’t publishing a novel. It’s seeing them point at the page yelling “THAT’S ME!” And maybe laughing at socks being stolen. Don’t overthink it.