Eeny teeny woman

Story told by a 11 year old to her 8 year old sister.

Eeny teeny woman lived under the earth. Being such a small person she had of course weeny teeny features. Her face was very small with eeny teeny eyes and her hands and feet also were so eeny teeny that you couldn't see them unless you looked carefully. She had an eeny teeny house for herself which she was very comfortable in. The eeny teeny house had several eeny teeny rooms but eeny teeny woman had no other family so she was all alone in that eeny teeny house.
The eeny teeny house was located at the end of an eeny teeny street. There were eeeeny teeeny streetlights on either side. There were eeny teeny supermarkets near the eeny teeny house so eeny teeny woman never had to walk far on her eeny teeny shoes.
Everyday morning eeny teeny woman would put on her eeny teeny dress and pick up her teeny weeny umbrella and teeny weeny bag and set out to the market. Her companion was her teeny weeny dog who followed her everywhere. She would go shopping and buy some eeny teeny vegetables and cook them in her eeny teeny kitchen. Her eeny teeny friends would come over once in a while to talk or they would call each other over their eeny teeny telephones. Eeny teeny woman was very content with her life.

If  you thought that this story was right up your alley, then either you are an eight year old or someone with the maturity of an eight year old. I take that back. In this Harry Potter era the entire world seems to be loving fantasy stories, myself included.

Anyhow my sister loved these eeny teeny woman stories! I remember for a long time she would always ask me at bed time for an eeny teeny woman story. Initially it was fun making up stories. My ground rules were , start ever line if possible with the words "eeny teeny " and add in as many inconsequential eeny teeny stuff to the story and hey presto, a story that would last 3 - 4 minutes. And obviously I would always stretch my eenies and teeneies as far i could. However there is only so much that a lonely old woman could do so later on new eeny teeny characters came into the picture like the eeny teeny guitar man with his guitar and so on. I think on one rare occasion someone from eeny teeny land even made their way up to the surface.

Thankfully this phase of our lives didnt last long. Either I ran out of eeny teeny stories or mom told us to not talk anymore in bed. How the eeny teeny saga ended is a mystery to me. And I am equally confused on what I must have told her all those nights that had her asking for more stories the next day.

Years later my sister brings home a book which she says she liked. Its by a new author Eoin Colfer and revolves around a boy and fairies who live below the earth! I read it and I like it too. However I only recently made the connection between this and my literary escapades over two decades ago. Our stories have really nothing much in common other than a few small ideas. Leaves me to ponder, if I had fine tuned eeny teeny woman, added a few guns, a few gizmos, a fight scene, or a love angle maybe I would have been the Eoin Colfer and he would have been blogging about his stories and how they were similar to mine:)

PS - Once and only once I made the mistake of asking my sister to tell me a story one night when eeny teeny woman refused to budge an inch. I will save her story for another post.