A couple of days ago I asked this question:
Anyone wanna try to figure out what this story is all about?
"YEEEEESSS Momma!!" (I don't know why every story starts this way, but it does.)
"The scarecrows and the pumpkins were turned on, Momma! And the ANGRY ghosts and the happy ghosts...they were happy to be angry Momma!........And the Sleeping Death was riding a tricycle Momma! YEEEESS Momma! the Sleeping Death was riding a tricycle and the ghosts were going night night in the pumpkin!"
This came while he was telling me about going to the park that day with Dad.
Here's your translation (he doesn't ever make things up out of whole cloth....it's always sparked by something he actually saw or heard):
Well, the scarecrows and pumpkins are all the outdoor Halloween decorations around town. He knows when the inflatables are turned off or turned on.
This is very similar to a decoration around the corner from us.
He thinks this ghost is "angry" when I've told him that the ghosts aren't angry, they're happy ghosts he then said they were "happy to be angry"....this comes back up every now and again.
Here's where the "Sleeping Death" part comes from.
Sleeping Death is now any skeleton or skull.
A "tricycle" is anything with wheels that isn't a car.
I'm guessing that part meant that on the way to the park he saw someone on a motorcycle wearing the Jolly Roger.
Now, on the way to the park we've seen this display in front of one of the houses
BUT, when the wind blows (as it has been lately) it blows the ghosts horizontal...making them look like they are laying on the pumpkin instead of standing in it. So, of course, they're "going night night in the pumpkin!"
Think your brain can keep up with his constant weaving of the things in his head? Mine can't!!
By the way, I only typed up the 5 seconds of chatter that I actually listened to, this "discussion" went on for about 10 minutes with a whole lot more things brought in. Sad thing, really, after about 5-10 seconds of trying to follow his stream-of-conciousness talk my brain overloads and I just let his voice wash over me like Niagra Falls while I make appropriate noises in suitable places. All the while reminding myself that I WORKED HARD at teaching him to talk....and trying to remember WHY I did.
God bless my little chatterbox. God only knows how this "talent" is going to serve his adult life. God bless his wife.