We were holding hands walking to the park when she told me:
“I have a friend you don’t know about”.
Oh? Tell me about them.
“I can’t!!
I told her that it’s great to make new friends but Dad would like to know who you’re making friends with so that you’re safe.
“DAD! My friend is IMAGINARY!!!!
Oh. Well then. Why didn’t you say so?
Two words that I really don’t like to hear as a parent is “let’s pretend” when it comes from her .
I don’t want to pretend to be a baby, or bear or stuffed animal. I will go on walks or ride bikes or play soccer but not try to play a game that is only in her head and she’s not sharing the plotline.
But then I think that she’s getting big so fast and so I pretend to be in a soccer challenge in the middle of the front yard:
Then there’s the oranges:
We’re back at the snack before bed thing that BW hates so much because it’s late and justgotobed! But, she says she wants a snack so the last few nights we’ve made a game about eating oranges.
First the orange gets peeled and placed in a row on the table.
Then we find two other objects - they could be the salt and pepper shaker -whatever, it doesn’t matter. Tonight it was 2 pieces of orange peel.
One of these items is the police chief and one is the officer.
The chief tells the officer to go and patrol the orange slices and count them and report back.
While the officer is reporting back, the child eats an orange slice. Then the officer re-counts and has to tell the chief that there’s another missing piece.
Do this about 9 times and each time the child eats a slice. Usually while the chief is waiting for the report of the missing orange slices he goes and has a donut and a nap1
This is a somewhat elaborate of the “whatever you do…don’t eat that” reverse psychology that kids fall for except now I’ve added a plot line and characters and a healthy snack.
She gets so caught up in the chief/officer characters so much that I have to remind her that she has to eat a slice so we can do the count again and the night can end and she can go to bed.
I can’t help myself. I’m the fun Dad and this stuff just sort of happens and the last few nights we’ve been doing this orange slice murder mystery thing and she loves it so much that she asks for it nightly now.
Before you think that I might be parent of the year, be warned that I have turned a ten minute orange snack to a good half an hour of entertaining a six-year-old when we should be going to bed. You have been warned.
This is where I realize that I won’t have much more time with Imaginaryland. I won’t be pretending to be a chef/tiger/soccer player or whatever else she wants me to be. Instead I’ll be hearing about Mr. Beast or ninja demon hunters or whatever the latest video game high score is.
When that time comes I’ll miss the orange slice murder mysteries and the soccer games and scooters click, click, click as the wheels race across the sidewalk powered by oranges and thoughts of unicorns and imaginary friends and whatever else goes on in that pretty little head of hers.
So ya. If you need me, I’ll be in the produce aisle buying more oranges.
Until Next Time,
TH and Co.
because: stereotypes