Imaginary Friends

I took the children to see Inside Out today, the newest Pixar movie.   I had heard it would likely be a bit over the children’s heads, and I agree, it was a little too sophisticated for them in parts, but they did like the movie over all.   Tonight in the bedroom before bath time, I asked my son, “did you like the movie?”   He said yes and then asked, “ what was it about?”

One of the characters in the movie is an imaginary friend from the primary character’s childhood named Bing Bong.   At twelve-years-old, the main character doesn’t play with her imaginary friend any more, but the memory of him still lurks in her mind.    It reminded me of earlier in the day when I had a conversation with my children, without realizing they were talking about an imaginary friend until we were well into the conversation.

We spent a good portion of the day with my running neighbor’s family.   She and I started the morning with a run.   My husband was in a golf tournament so he dropped our children off at their house until she and I returned from running.   It was tough getting the kids out of their house so they could go to church, but we managed to walk home with the promise we were meeting them for a late lunch in a short while.

I got them both into the car an hour-and-a-half later, saying we were on the way to lunch.    They started talking in the back seat to each other about how old various people were.   They had just come from our neighbor’s house a few hours before, so when they were talking about how old Gigi was, I jumped in and said, “Gigi’s not five, she was born two days after you, so she’s three.”     They both protested.

They insisted Gigi was five, or maybe she was six.   It took me a minute to realize they were saying, “Ghi Ghi” their imaginary friend and not Gigi, the neighbor.   I caught on when they started comparing ages with Gah Gah and Pahmer.  

I don’t know how long their imaginary friends will last, but it’s nice while they’re here.

The Big Boy Update:  My son continues to streak his pants because he doesn’t want to go to the bathroom.   We have been trying to work through it.   He doesn’t mind washing his underpants now and, honestly, he’s getting quite good at washing them in the sink.   Tonight, he wanted to go play with his friends in our back yard after we discovered streaky pants.   I told him I was tired of washing pants so he could go out, but he wasn’t allowed to wear pants, only underpants.  That, apparently, was what mattered to him.   He had a terrible fit inside saying he had to have pants to go outside.    He was so mad he told me, "Mom, can you call the police and tell them to put you and daddy in jail and the call uncle Jon to pick me up.”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter feels much, much better today after one day’s treatment with yeast medication.   Yesterday she was howling when she went to the bathroom.

Fitness Update:  Eleven miles this morning in fantastic weather.   It wasn’t too hot, it wasn’t humid and it was nice and sunny.   Also, we weren’t plagued by bugs