Two little boys moved to Hattiesburg two years ago and have taken me back to the Unreal World of Imagination that seems to be lost to most adults. They build a world and tell me what my role is and often what I need to say. Car seats with their backs on the floor are positioned for a couple of astronauts to blast off into space. I fill the gas tanks on their big wheels with unreal fuel, and they pay me a hundred unreal dollars, or maybe a gazillion if they are feeling generous.
Frequently, I am taken by surprise into this world. The latest involved an art project that I once did with kindergarten children and thought they would enjoy. If you fold construction paper, cut it just right, and decorate it properly, you have a caterpillar that turns into a butterfly. That was as far as I went, but not the boys. Owen followed all the instructions, named his Casey, and was finished with that project.
A rising kindergartener, Benjamin needed me to spell “George” so he could write the name on his caterpillar/butterfly, maybe so the creature could remember who he was. For the rest of the visit, George accompanied us wherever we went, even taking a rather precarious ride on the big wheel. Benjamin made sure George was not left behind when they went home. The next day, their mother sent a picture of George reclining in the lounge chair by the pool watching the boys swim, suitably attired in sunglasses!
Benjamin started to public school this week, joining a multitude of other children. It is my wish for all of them that they have teachers who do a fine job of imparting real world skills of reading, writing, and even arithmetic. [In spite of the tone of my blog title, I’m in favor of math. I just don’t find it that interesting to write about.] I hope that their teachers will also take them on fantastic voyages into the Unreal World of Imagination.