"Just Pretend"

Evie June has a great imagination. Often she'll come up with some crazy story or scenario, or a collection of red berries off the shrub in the backyard, claiming they'll turn into butterflies soon, only to add in a stage whisper aside, "Just pretend, Mama."

And she's combing her imagination skills with a recent developmental milestone: naptime stalling.

Yesterday afternoon, she crept out and was lurking in the kitchen, stripped down, but wearing her rainboots. I got up to put her back in bed, scooped her into my arms and carried her to her room. But she wigged out when I went to lay her down on her pillow.

"No! Its all muddy!"

So apparently, there had been a freak rainstorm in her room. "All my animals are wet," she claimed, insisting I deposit her at the end of her bed with a blanket on her. I did so as fast as I could, so I could slip out before she saw me laughing.

A few minutes later, she hollered for me.

I reluctantly got up, answered her summons. "Mama, I need a pretend rag to clean up all this mud."

I dug into my pocket, the magical repository of all things imaginary, and retrieved said rag.

She took it from my hand, began mopping up the imaginary mud.

I took a couple of steps out of the room before she called me back. Now I was ready to be annoyed. But she was lying down, holding out her hand. "Take the rag, please Mama. Wash it for me?"

And then she went to sleep. But the rag is still in my pocket--who knows when she'll have need for an imaginary mud ball? I have to be prepared.

Jen

PS: Imagination photos are hard to pull off. Here's one of her playing on the new kitchen floor instead.