Summary

In "Tales from the Tent: I Want My Legos Back," Katie Michaelson narrates a whimsical story of children whispering tales in a tent, only to be interrupted by a grumpy figure demanding their Legos, which turns out to be the grandmother.

Abstract

"Tales from the Tent: I Want My Legos Back" is a playful story poem by Katie Michaelson that captures the essence of childhood imagination and play. Set within a tent, the narrative unfolds with children exchanging stories and songs, only to be startled by eerie sounds outside. The tension escalates until the mysterious figure is revealed to be their grandmother, comically demanding the return of her Legos. The poem reflects on the timeless tradition of storytelling and the joy of camping indoors and out, inviting readers to share their own tenting experiences. Michaelson, who nurtures both plants and people, draws a parallel between the strength found in the injured spirit and the significance of seemingly insignificant moments.

Opinions

The author, Katie Michaelson, values the tradition of storytelling and its ability to evolve through retellings.
There is a nostalgic appreciation for childhood games and the simple joy of spending time in a tent, whether in the yard or indoors.
The story suggests that even mundane objects like Legos can become focal points of contention and laughter among family members.
The author sees significance in preserving the childlike wonder and creativity that can be found in everyday life.
Michaelson encourages others to share their personal stories and experiences, highlighting the communal aspect of storytelling.
The poem implies that the act of storytelling can make ordinary experiences, like camping in a tent, extraordinary and memorable.

TALES FROM THE TENT

I Want My Legos Back

Story Poem

Huddled inside the tent, they whispered their stories. They whispered their stories, changing them. Making them better — scarier. Scarier.

“Knock it off, Rabbit!” said Squirrel. “Knock it off yourself. They’ll hear us if you don’t keep your voice down.” “That flashlight’s going to give us away, shut it off,” said Squirrel.

“Run-run rabbit, run gimme-gimme gimme some.”

“Knock it off, Squirrel. Just ask normally, jeesh.” “Must you turn everything into a song?” asks Rabbit handing his buddy the bag of chips.

“Where’s the dip? gimme-gimme gimme some.”

Listen.

Listen. Sounds of moaning — no, groaning, outside the tent. Getting louder. Louder. Closer.

“You’re chewing too loud!” “Sheesh.” “You’re getting chips all over.” “What’s that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ouch!” then a thud from the darkness.

“Did you pick up the Legos, Rabbit?” “They're your Legos, Squirrel.”

“NO — they’re mine!” Shouts a voice from the dark.

Lights go on a head white hair peeks into the tent.

Chips fly a knee squashes into the dip.

“Their mine!” Squinty eyes look at the mess.

Tub of Legos lifted from the floor. “They’re not yours anymore.”

“Gramma. Gramma!”

“I want my Legos back!”

Huddled inside the tent, they whispered their stories. They whispered their stories, changing them. Making them better — scarier. Scarier.

Does (or did) your Gramma have a tent in her house? Back in the olden days, we’d spend a lot of time in tents set up in the yard. We’d play games and tell scary stories.

One of our favorites was I Want My Liver Back. It’d be interesting to know where it originated. I learned it from an older cousin. I changed it. I’m sure those who heard it from me changed it. Isn’t that fun?

To recreate the experience, I’ve allowed my grandchildren to set up tents in the yard and in the house. The games and stories are different, but the fun’s the same.

I’d love to hear about your experiences tenting. David Rudder, R. Rangan PhD and (Neil), Ching Ching, Linda Caroll, Tana Lynn Hutton, Adrienne Parkhurst, Nicole Brown, Megan Nicole Morgan, and anyone who remains a child at heart.

WRITTEN BY Katie Michaelson I tend plants and people from my 120-year-old home and small garden. I see strength in the injured spirit and find significance in the insignificant.