The Peanut is deep in the world of pretend this summer. This morning, I couldn’t get her out of bed and ready for school unless I addressed her as “Baby Dinosaur” and squawked questions like “Do baby dinosaurs eat strawberries for breakfast?” “Do baby dinosaurs want their hair in a pony tail or pigtails?” She would chirrup her answers at me while holding her elbows in close and hopping around the house. This is the Peanut’s morning routine lately. The creature may differ, but it’s never the Peanut first thing in the morning.
One day I noticed, as I was loading her into the car after preschool, that the Peanut had acquired a band-aid on one of her fingers. “Oh no!” I said. “What happened here?”
Peanut: “A wild animal bit me!”
Me: “What! A WILD animal bit you?”
Peanut: “Yeah! A wild animal was in the class and it was running around and it BIT me!”
Me: “Your story is highly suspect.”
Peanut: “It was four monkeys. There were four monkeys in my class today and they were crazy and biting!”
That night, when the band-aid came off at bath time, I couldn’t see any sign of even a small injury on the Peanut’s finger. The next morning when I asked her teacher about the band-aid, she said that she was never able to see that anything was actually wrong with the Peanut’s finger. The Peanut was just so adamant that she needed a band-aid that the teacher decided to give her one so they could move on with their morning. This is what I like to call the Peanut’s version of the ‘long con.’
Her teacher then shared that the day before she’d been trying to get the Peanut to finish eating her lunch (by way of background, the Peanut is always, always, the last kid finished with lunch every day). The teacher asked, “Peanut, do you think we could hurry up a bit?” “No,” the Peanut answered, “I can’t hurry. I’m a princess.” Apparently it does not befit the throne to ‘hurry.’
One night while Facetiming with her Grammy and Granddad, the Peanut was telling them about our recent trip to Minneapolis. “There were crocodiles there!” She exclaimed, as I mouthed in the background, “There were NO crocodiles.”
On another afternoon the Peanut and I had this conversation:
Peanut: “What’s Daddy’s name?”
Me: “Well, as far as you’re concerned, It’s ‘Daddy.’
Peanut: “No, it’s not. It’s Gary.”
Peanut: “Daddy’s name is Gary. Your name is Bossy.”
Later that same afternoon, I was watching the Peanut fingerpaint. As she spread green paint around the page she screamed “Oh no it’s a dragon! Who will save us?!” She chose her next color and then said, “I will paint a princess. She will save us…. Princess, will you save us?… She’s nice, so she’s going to save us.” Phew. Disaster averted. All is well in Fantasyland.