Once upon a time...

There was a little girl who lived in the Mediterranean. Most mornings she woke up, ate her breakfast, and had schoolwork to do... but *some* special mornings she didn't. On those days she woke up to hear her Papa calling up the stairs, "Everybody wake up -we're going on an ADVENTURE!" And then her mouth would put on the biggest grin it could hold, and she would climb down the ladder from her bunkbed. Sometimes she jumped on her sister's bed to wake her up (her sister liked to sleep in) and sometimes she helped pull her baby brother out of his crib (he was little but fat).... but she almost always started singing, because singing is what you do when you are happy in the mornings. She also ate, because eating is very important, at almost every time of the day. Sometimes she asked with a mouthful of cereal about the adventure, and her Mama would tell her not to talk with her mouth full. But then her Mama would give her a hug, and some fresh orange juice, and no one would be upset. And sometimes her Papa would say, "We're going to the mountains!" and sometimes he would say, "We're going to the beach!" and sometimes- these were fun times- he would say, "You'll just have to wait and see!"

After she was done with breakfast, the little girl got ready for the adventure. If her Papa had said "Beach!" she wore her swimsuit, but if he had said "Mountains!" she wore her tshirt and jeans and sneakers. But no matter where he said, she alway packed a water bottle, a snack, and a book in her small backpack, because her Mama said that is what you take on adventure. Then she would climb into the van with her brothers and sister in the early morning and start up the winding roads. Sometimes she felt sick, because the roads were very, very twisty, but her mom told her, "Roll down your window, sweet-pea," and so she did. Then the cool, fresh breeze would rush down through the pines and into the van and ruffle her hair. And the little girl would stick her face out the window as far as she could and take deep, deep breaths. If she went swimming at the beach, she let her hair loose on the way home, and it blew dry as they zoomed back to their little city.

The little girl loved the beach, and the soft warm water, and all the shells hidden in the sand. And she loved the mountains, and the tall singing trees, and all the flowers hiding between the rocks. But when she grew up, and friends asked her which one was her favourite, she didn't know, until she remembered one of the best adventure days ever. That day, her Papa woke them up early, and they went to the beach, and played in the morning sand. And then, just as they went home and thought the fun was over, her Papa made them pack their bags again, and they went to the mountains too! And it was so cold there was even snow on the mountains, and her little sister didn't even want to get out of the van. "It's an adventure," the little girl said, and brought her a snowball. When the family was finally tired of playing in the snow, they went back down the mountain to their house. And the little girl found bits of snow and bits of sand in her backpack, and was very happy. And she decided that one day when she was big and got married, she would also take her children on adventures to the beach, and to the mountains, and sometimes even to *both*, because it's fun to mix opposites and surprise people.

The End.