My daughter has started making things up.
Not bad things. Nothing dramatic, or mean, or to save her butt from trouble. So I wouldn't call it lying...
"Did you meet Flopsy?" she asked me the other day, holding out her hand, palm facing up toward me.
"No, baby," I said, trying to take her hand, thinking that she was reaching out for me to hold it.
"NO! You're hurting Flopsy!" she howled.
As it turns out, Flopsy is an imaginary boy bunny that she carries in the palm of her hand.
I am sort of embarrassed, but I have now been using Flopsy to entertain guests and family members. As in, "Oh, have you met Flopsy? No? Allie, can you show Flopsy to Mama's friend?" At which she will immediately respond by holding out her empty hand, palm up, a huge smile on her face. "He's very soft," she will say.
My amazed friend will giggle, not sure if it's ok to laugh, until she sees the grin on my face and breaks down to laughing herself.
So maybe I am not making fun of my daughter's wild imagination after all. I like to think I am just sharing a few smiles.
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