Seems To Still Be Working

Mitchell was having a bit of a rough time getting his imagination in gear the other day. He was disappointed that I wouldn't let him play with my Iphone while I showered and his attitude was just getting in the way of his creativity!

After showering and dressing, I went into his room to check on him and he was just laying on his beanbag and nothing else in his room had been touched! I asked him why he hadn't played with anything or done anything, and he said, "Mom, I just don't know how to play! I just couldn't think of anything to do! I just had to lay here! I think my imagination is broken..."

Bummer. What do you do when you are only 4 years old and already your imagination has stopped working? That is truly a travesty!

I told him he could come into my bathroom with me while I dried my hair, feeling sorry for my poor little boy who somehow broke his once fantastic imagination. I was actually giving the matter some serious thought and wondering if perhaps I had been letting him play on my Iphone too much, when I stopped to look and listen.

He had taken my three pairs of fingernail clippers, an overnight case, and a round brush and had made them into a family. The large nail clippers were the dad (Tim), the medium clippers were the mom (Leelah), and the small ones were the little girl (Little Leelah.) The lived in an overnight case (Narnia) and the round brush was the neighbor (Gloobah.)

As I put my make-up on, his little family had quite the adventure around my bathroom (that Gloobah was quite the trouble-maker...)

I didn't tell him, but I think I'll stop worrying. I'm pretty sure his imagination is still in good working condition.

I'd Say That Counts

As I sent the big boys off to the basement for a little "quiet" time so I could go upstairs and shower uninterrupted, I reminded them that they needed to stay put until I came down to get them. Being the lone female in my house, I don't love tattling visitors while showering. A girl's got to have a bit of privacy!

I told them I wanted them to stay playing downstairs and not to come get me unless there was an emergency. Ben looked at me and said, "Would it be an emergency if Mitchell's leg got cut off?"

Yes, I think that would count as an emergency. When I told him they may come get me if Mitchell's leg came off somehow, the launched into a heated debate as to who would come get me and how. Ben didn't think Mitchell would be able to manage the stairs with one leg and a bloody stump, but Mitchell insisted he could hop up on one foot to show me.

They were still discussing other possibly bloody emergencies on their way down the stairs, but somehow they made it through one more quiet time in one piece.