How parenting affects creativity

Excerpt from a story I wrote when I was fifteen:

Space Captain Wallace Andrews checked the data from his damaged starship as it drifted next to the asteroid belt. He had thirty minutes of air left.
He chuckled to himself. He had single-handedly thwarted the invasion mounted by the alien Pril, not that anyone on Earth would know. If only Star Command had listened! Wankers.
At least when the freezing vacuum shredded his face and ripped out his guts it would be quick. He sighed nonetheless. Space Captain Andrews wasn’t afraid of agonising death; it was just that he had fallen in love with the Martian parasite that was eating him alive from within…

 
Excerpt from a story I wrote today as father of a four-year old girl:

Sparkle the Unicorn galloped across the pink meadow. She laughed happily as she thought about her friends Trixabelle and La La Pony.
Trixabelle had a lovely long purple mane and Sparkle looked forward to tying it in a plait. Perhaps Trixabelle would plait Sparkle’s hair in return. She hoped so!
Trixabelle had such a pretty mane. Sparkle’s was pretty too but there were lots of tiny little stars in it so sometimes it got a bit tangled.
As the clouds drifted like candy floss through the bright blue sky Sparkle laughed again. Her friends would find a way!

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