One of the funniest things about having a three year old is observing their imagination. I really wonder where she gets some of the things she plays at. Every day, she has a new imaginary friend to talk to on the phone. Sometimes she talks to real people, sometimes its some randomly made up person (at least I think they are people) that she chats away to. Is it long distance? Where are they from? Is it even on this planet? What is the significance of their relationship?
Oh, yeah… and everything is a cell phone. If her play phone isn’t handy, my keys, the remote control or anything that is handy takes on being the phone.
Today, Abby’s phone is the toilet paper roll. She is chatting to someone named Crispy. Man, if only I had that imagination, I’d be rich from all the novel I’d be writing.