on the part of the 3yo, or whether the Other Ann is at Andy's doctor.There are a lot more people at Chez Gamers' Babes than you thought there were, huh?
Abby had her share - most notably Teetey and Roni - who were twins, orphans whose parents had died in imaginary quicksand and were thereafter adopted by Abby. Teetey especially was adventuresome - one day Abby was hysterical because Teetey had run away to "the bad dark forest with the fireballs" and wouldn't come back. (Come to think of it, the Fireball Forest and the Quicksand may have the same source
). She turned up the next day in Abby's cubby at daycare, but she required multiple "p'tend bandages" for the burns.That's not even counting Gnaythan the Gnome (and his niece Gnalanna), Man-Mountain Mike, Cronin the Cloak Fighter, Ticto the Dreamspeaker (and his granddaughter Marian the Librarian Speaker-to-Made-Things), Maskar Wands, Good Witch Tivona, Gryphon-Rider Rica and assorted visiting - yes, on Friday nights - characters in games from all matter
of universes (and multi-verses for that matter).
Is it nature or nurture? I mean, Lizzy did - at two - define role-playing as "Daddy tells you a stowy and you tell one back". (insert whomever is game-mastering in place of "Daddy" as needed; she's pretty gamer-savvy). Abby has been around it all her life too; her dad and I played - although different game systems - when we were married. Or is there some sort of inborn gamer-gene or writer-gene or just imagination-gene that predisposes us to this odd social outlet?
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