2/10/2018 0 Comments Imagination stationOne of my favourite things about my kids is their imaginations, their stories and their sometimes inability to make any logical sense. I love their little stories, their made up games and all the adventures they have. But there are times when I wonder what the dickens was going on in my child's brain and if they ever have a chance of a normal life.
We try to chat at supper about our day, plans, etc. And by chat I mean a forced extraction from Jackson that is usually "my favourite part was recess, I tell you this every day" and Shiloh comes up with some insane story about I don't know, anything. Since Jackson is apparently 15 when it comes to sharing, dinner is usually Shiloh's time to shine. "Sometimes my parents take me to a restaurant. I don't know their names or who they are. My parents are not my mommy and daddy. They are different people. I like going places with them. They are my fun parents. But I don't know their names. I just go with them." "I love Jesus because he is really cool and he can do things I can't. He has the powwwwwwer! Go go Power Rangers!". Ah.... I don't know how to correct that one. And when all else fails and her stories refuse to elicit the response she wants from her brother, she either loudly declares she has farted or lists all the bathroom words she knows. Including toilet.
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