Starting this week, my friend Misty, aka The Book Rat, along with one of her friends, is doing a Fairy Tale Fortnight. To which I proclaimed, "I'm in!" I have always loved Fairy Tales, and even now that I'm "grownup" (yes, it does need quotations), I still gravitate to stories that have the feeling of Fairy Tales (capital letters a must). I hope for the happily ever after, I weep with delight at retellings and reinvisionings. Some of my happiest times as a child were reading my Mother Goose and my big Fairy Tale book with my grandmother. One was the typical checkered one, the other, a forest green. There was always one story I loved more than others, which, once I tell you, you'll probably understand my warped mind a little better. It was about this guys who jumped in and out of thorns. I remember nothing else, just that. It was my grandmothers favorite as well. It was located to the back of one of the books and we always wanted to read that one. We could never remember which book of the two, and we never started at the back and worked our way in reverse. We always started at the front and read the whole thing, and if that wasn't the right book we'd do the same with the other. Because, while we both loved that one story, it wasn't just that story that enlived the minds both young and old and brought us together, it was all the stories. I will never grow too old for fairy tales, and if my grandmother is any proof, it runs in the family.