Imaginary friends…forever?
I never had an imaginary friend. I know that a lot of
normal, healthy kids invent these invisible pals to keep themselves
entertained. In fact, there appears (or should I say, “doesn’t appear”) to be
an imaginary friend lurking around my house these days. His name is “Roni,”
which might be related to my daughter’s love for pepperoni and macaroni, but
I’m not sure.
My daughter describes Roni as a friendly monster that
doesn’t smell bad, like other monsters. It’s hard to smell bad when you’re
invisible, I guess. I don’t mind him hanging around—he doesn’t eat much, is
very polite, and never hogs the remote. His lack of stench is clearly a
benefit. However, I made a little mistake when my daughter first told me about
him. I decided to give him a funny voice—a bizarre mixture of New York and
Jamaican accents that is hard to reproduce on (my daughter’s) command. What’s
so bad about that?
First, my daughter’s extremely discriminating ears know when
I’m doing the voice “wrong.” She then lets me know. Loudly. Sometimes it takes
me a few tries before I can find the right Yankee-Jamaican accent again—it
doesn’t come naturally, and three year olds aren’t exactly known for their
patience. Her frustration makes it even harder to recall the accent, so I sit
there sounding like Jerry Seinfeld one minute, Bob Marley the next, and
occasionally Gilbert Gottfried—don’t ask. It’s all just really bizarre.
Second, since she thinks Roni’s voice magically comes out of
my mouth, I have to be involved in all the pretend scenarios my daughter
imagines when she plays with him. Isn’t it enough that the guy is imaginary? Is
it really required for me to stay in character even when I’m trying to eat, get
dressed, write a column, or use the bathroom? Apparently so. It’s just
naturally hard to say no to your adorable three year old daughter, especially
when she’s being so creative and imaginative.
It is pretty amazing how creative children can be! Their
imaginations run wild and entertain them no matter where they are. Maybe that’s
why children are usually so happy. It makes me wonder where most of that
creativity goes when we grow up. I guess
you have to “use it or lose it.” In that case, my daughter is keeping me on my
toes and exercising my creativity every day. We have fun pretending.
I’ve got nothing against imaginary people. I imagine (pardon
my pun) they’re nice folks. For the time being, I guess I’ll continue my
starring role as Roni, the fresh-scented bus-driving monster from Brooklyn who
loves celery and brushing his teeth. Now that I think about it, he is pretty cool. I don’t know how long
he’ll stick around, but I hope he’s gone by the time little M is allowed to
date (around age 35, from my calculations). I may have to look into getting an
imaginary friend of my own.
Love,
Mom
Debra, a Lebanon, TN
native, is a novice mother, wife, and college student. She writes about the parts of parenthood you didn’t expect when you were expecting.
Email her at interruptedmom@gmail.com or visit the website at motherinterrupted.com.
