Have you ever had an imaginary friend? I did when I was about 2 years old. I lived in Utah at that time. There’s one story that my parents recite to me when they feel like embarrassing or humiliating me. I guess I’ll have to embarrass myself this time.
It starts off with me at my house and my dear Uncle Gordon (aka Organ). I was about two at the time and I was playing in the backyard of someone’s house. I was playing on the swings and happened to fall down. When my sweet Uncle came out to see what was wrong all he saw was me standing there, bawling my eyes out, and holding my hand in a fist. He kept trying to check that I hadn’t been hurt, but when he saw my hand clutched shut he kept trying to pry my fingers open.
The minute he had my fingers opened and realised that everything was alright, I let out a huge scream. My poor Uncle couldn’t figure out what was going on until my mom came outside. She got me to calm down long enough to talk coherently. She found out that when Uncle Gordon opened my fingers my “friend” escaped from my hand and that’s what was causing all the drama.
Who knows why I decided to take a trip down memory lane today, but I do remember Emma, a couple of years back (about 3 years old), and walking into her room while she was talking to herself. As I watched closer I realised she was talking “to someone” and they were having a conversation. As I look back on that, I notice that she has the bigger imagination and she can always entertain herself without much in the way of toys or even people. I guess she’s a chip off the old block (minus the dark hair 🙂 )!