Today, when I got home from work, the kids told me they were able to speak French. My knee-jerk reaction was to disagree, but with the quickness that they picked up English, I was motivated to listen. I asked them to speak in French for me, to which they said the following word:
When I asked what it meant, they told me it was a shoe for a little pig.
Over the course of the evening, they incorporated their new word into conversations. Because their word was French, and the French are classy individuals, it was done with an aire of sophistication…
“Un ponchew Senor.”
I’m guessing that in their mind, shoes for little pigs are a plaything of royalty and the super wealthy. While that sounds a little ridiculous at first, I think about Fabergé eggs and remember that someone at some point convinced a Russian king that bedazzling an egg that could hang around his neck would be the coolest thing ever.
Their imagination is amazing to watch, and it reminded me of a few other times that I’ve seen them play…
A few months ago, I walked in on the following scenario: Four kids were on the top bunk in the girls’ room. The remaining child was hiding under a blanket with our bucket of plastic dinosaurs on the floor. As I entered the room, I was immediately told to be quiet by the kids on the top bunk. I consented and watched at a distance. One of the kids at the top threw one end of their jump-rope over the side of the bed. The one under the blanket immediately grabbed a dinosaur, tied the rope around its neck, and gave two quick tugs on the rope, all while doing their best to remain hidden. The dinosaur was pulled up, and the other kids gave an “Oooo!” as the identity was revealed.
I could no longer maintain my residence. I had to ask. “What are you doing?”
“Papi! We’re fishing for dinosaurs.” I guess I thought there was more there, but there wasn’t. The simple explanation was the correct one.
I was then reminded that if I talk too loud, I would scare the other dinosaurs away. Obviously it was too delicate a procedure for someone as cantankerous as me to participate, so I left.
After watching “Meet the Robinsons” they were inspired to invent something. Their idea of inventing something was to stick two or more unrelated toys together.
The youngest son put all his cars in a bucket, and showed me his “invention”. I congratulated him on inventing “cleaning up” and encouraged him to use his invention more often at the house.
Some of the others put a lot of sand in cups and strainers and fastened them all together. As they showed me their invention, I asked what it did. They told me they didn’t know but reminded me of how neat it looked. That sort of reminded me of something else that looks pretty good but doesn’t do much: Kim Kardashian.
Have you ever noticed that the plastic army men can’t actually engage in battle? All they can do is stand on those little plastic blobs and pose dramatically. My boys decided that merely depicting what looks like a snapshot of an intense battle was not enough.
They chose to set up their army men on two sides, and would take turns rolling a quarter to “take out” the other troops. If a man fell over, he was dead, and his corpse was quickly carried to the side as the next salvo commenced. The person that killed all soldiers on the other side won. This game was played for several hours a few weeks ago.
Even though the Tan and Green have been fighting each other with Vietnam-era weapons for years, the boys chose Civil War tactics by putting them in nice straight rows. Since the battlefield was tile and a few table legs, they didn’t have much cover anyway.
I’m glad God gave them imaginations, and every day, they learn to use the toys they have in new ways.
I’m glad that they have four brothers and sisters, because they are rarely mad at all of them and can usually find one with whom to play.
I’m glad that they can play. When they play, they just enjoy being kids. Every kid needs to just enjoy being a kid from time to time. We have our whole lives to be grown-ups.
At the dinnermesa,