11. Dad, Gandalf
Dad, Gandalf, — yes, I know you hate it when I do that (I can’t help it, wise, bearded one) — don’t go yet. You’ve still got secrets to whisper in my ear, and I — well, I was stupid. I didn’t listen often enough. I yawned at stories. Left the room to play with my dolls. I never sang along with Down in the Valley, and sometimes, sometimes when I was all too rude, I asked you to stop because I thought I’d heard it too many times.
Dad, Merlin, sing it in my ear again. That one, or maybe the one about the monkey and the weasel and the carpenter’s bench because I promise I’ll screech in surprise at the end just like I did so many years ago.
Dad, Obi-wan, don’t go yet. I won’t even tease you about the robe we gave you that made you look like a Jedi (okay, too late for that), and you can sing all your favorite songs. The valley, the carpenter’s bench, and even the one about acres and acres of clams, alive alive-o.
