Guest blogger Rebecca Feuer: From the time my son started to talk, bedtime was never an easy ritual. He refused to have me read from any book. Instead, each night I had to make up a story. And not just any story, but an intricate tale with well-established characters, plot line and resolution. I was a master storyteller to my son every night for approximately seven years. I know there are other caregivers out there struggling to come up with new stories for their sleepy ones. May this little story serve as a "cheat sheet" for you!

Hannah was little girl living in a very big city. Everything around her was tall and great. The buildings, the people, even some of the dogs she would see on the street were bigger than she was. It all seemed so special, and Hannah wanted to be something special. 

Hannah spent most of her days in her room. She would sit on her very big bed and think about ways she could be special. She thought that if she dressed fancy, it would make her special. However, wearing a party dress to play in the sandbox was not allowed. She thought she could try singing and maybe be on TV. She would sing while walking up and down her block, but no one even stopped to applaud. (Maybe she wasn't meant to be a singer.) One day, Hannah tried to be a chef. But instead of preparing the most wonderful meal, she wound up preparing the most horrible mess. Her mom was not happy. 

On the first day of first grade, Miss Grand asked all of the children to tell the class what they wanted to be when they grew up. Jon K. said he wanted to be a lawyer like his dad. Melissa said she wanted to be an epidemiologist like her mom. (No one even knew what that was.) When it was Hannah's turn to answer the question, she said, "When I grow up, I want to be special." 

"Special?" Miss Grand asked. "Hannah, you know that everyone is special." 

"I know everyone says that," replied Hannah, "but I really want to be special. I just want everyone to think I am really good at something, and that will make me special." 

"Well, I don't think you need to work at it," Miss Grand answered. "Just know that you are special."  

Hannah put her head on her desk and thought up new ways to be special. It was lunchtime. All of the kids in Hannah's class went down to the cafeteria. Everyone unpacked their lunch and started eating. Lucy said, "Hey Hannah, did your mom pack you a special lunch?" All the kids started to laugh. Hannah lowered her head and quietly ate her sandwich. 

When lunch was over, she picked up her stuff and took the trash over to the bin. As Hannah threw out her trash, she looked down at the trash can. She saw a very small, very pink piece of paper sticking out from under the can. Hannah bent down and picked up the paper. It had one word on it: LAICEPS. Hannah had never seen that word and didn't want anyone else to see it, so she quickly put the note in her pocket and joined the rest of the kids in the line back to class.