Freaky Friendship

My 18 month old grandson came to visit this weekend.  It was great watching him run in circles, squealing with delight as he played with our dogs and discovering new ways to climb into chairs.  It’s really hard to keep that kind of energy focused.  Such a tiny little attention span that you have

to keep giving him new things to try and I am quite out of practice with that.  While I was attempting to wash dishes I handed him a few pieces of Tupperware in different sizes and shapes, a couple of lids and a variety of spoons including, of course, the big wooden whacker.  He sat patiently on the floor for well over half an hour pretending to pour, mix, and stir stuff.  I finished the dishes and as I watched him I realized he was using his imagination to pretend he was making or baking something.  “That’s so cool!” I said out loud, but he didn’t even notice me, so I murmured the rest under my breath, “I like to pretend I can cook too”.  I thought it was really funny, he just continued to ignore me.  Then I tried to remember the last time I used my imagination.  And I can’t.  I can’t remember the last time I tapped that valuable resource for anything and that made me a little sad.  I need to get back to that.  I need to figure out how to re-employ my imagination, how to plug back into that wondrous, creative escape. 

So here I am sharing these thoughts with you, my new imaginary friends.  Let’s just pretend that right now we’re sitting in my living room, Indian style on a Persian rug, listening to the crackle of the fireplace in the background, drinking a glass of wine and vaping ourselves into heaven while John Lennon sings “Imagine” to us from his seat on the hearth.