Imaginary games
“Play an imaginary game!” is one of my favourite requests from my kids. There is a mind-bending joy in pretending to be a pizza delivery guy trying to extract squirrels from their secret underground den using sleepy-pizza. These are games of world building and story. Sometimes we return to these worlds again and again, like the frequent post-bath favourite, the mushroom game, which often brings laughter and can help navigate pre-bed jitters. Other times, they are one-off constructions – so complicated and surreal they can never be found again. I know that I won’t always have the privilege of swimming so freely inside my kids’ imaginations, so I always try to say yes to an imaginary game, even if I am tired, even if they have been little shits, even if it means going through the knees of another pair of trousers as I crawl around being a lava monster wanting to munch on their toes. It is all seems worthwhile when I am sitting eating an imaginary marshmallow around an imaginary campfire at the top of an imaginary mountain with my very real and joyous children.