Imaginative play

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Some Sunday mornings you wake up, and you don’t know what your family will present you with.

This morning, in my lazy Sunday way, I’m half asleep in bed, when I hear a commotion next to me. Our daughter-in-law and two-year-old granddaughter facetime us! Well I awake in a hurry to see what’s happening. Our granddaughter has a puzzle of sea creatures out in the front sunroom, so we chat while her mom advises with the troublesome pieces.

“Where are your dad and your brother?” my wife asked.

“They’re swimming!” she replied.

“At lessons?”

“Yes!”

After two times through the puzzle, she turns and crawls to the other end of the sunroom, to play with her doll house. “Oh,” my wife remarks, “you brought the doll house up from the playroom.”

“Yes, we thought we’d try it up here for a little while… Sweetie, do you want to say goodbye to Nam and Papa?”

“Goodbye!”

“Goodbye, dear!”

“Goodbye! Thanks for calling!”

Shortly afterwards we receive a text from our son, evidently just returned from swimming. His message captions a photograph he has just taken:

“Do you think we should be concerned about our daughter’s imaginative play?”

“Did she hang that guy going down the stairs?” my wife asks.

“Yes. The grandma unfortunately,” our son replies.

Send the doll house back down to the playroom!

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