First, the gingerbread man walked in her footsteps. Rose went to the park? The gingerbread played on the swings. Rose had a temper tantrum? The gingerbread had a tough day too.

Then Rose took control. Every story, four stories a night, for months, the gingerbread was scared. He hid in the closet while a monster, a giant octopus, a really loud mouse, menaced him. But Mommy made it go away.

Concurrently, he took nightly trips to the dangerous park. John told those. The gingerbread went to the dangerous park. Something dangerous happened. He got a little hurt, got a lot of snuggles from his mommy and daddy, and survived for the next night's installment.

After a year or so, scary got dropped for temper tantrums and sad. He tripped, he wasn't allowed 25 cookies before dinner, he wasn't able to climb to the moon. He did a lot of screaming then pulled himself together.

No more temper tantrums, just taunting monsters. Every day "Nya, nya, a boo boo."

And then it just stopped. We had a few weeks of family history--Great Grandma Adele's frogs and Great Grandma Rose's apple pie. Now, kitties, pandas, dogs. Whatever.

The gingerbread man slammed the door. He has run away.