It’s the lonely children who have the best imaginations. It’s the child left at home with boring mom while the exciting older brothers are off at school, who create worlds where mommy’s best pillows are landing pads for superhuman children, and where action figures can be held for ransom, bound in unbreakable brown yarn. (I’ve never paid up but have been forced to provide said yarn on pain of headache if not coughed up in an expeditious manner). It is this kind of child who imprisons his Ironman action figure in a Ziploc baggie and calls him frozen cotton candy.
It is this same kind of child who, when asked to deliver a plate he had apples on, tells you that he ate the apples and the plate. It is this adorable child who, after his confession of eating my plate, leaves for a moment and comes back with the plate saying that he got it out and hands it to me for washing. And finally, it is this child who thought it would be fun to run, like Dash, down the hallway at full speed and go splat on the wall.
Amazingly the padding on the suit (no not our walls… yet) saved him from certain injury. Lonely children are the most creative, or at least the most innovative and with time have the best conversations with themselves, oops. Sounds like mommy needs to start working on her fun-ness.