The Life of the Mind

Riding in Style

Yesterday, Milo and I went to the mall, and on a trip to the restroom, the handicapped stall was out of order, so I had to take him in the "Family" bathroom, which was already in use by a mom changing a toddler on the changing table, a grandmother lending moral support, and a little girl who was, according to her mom, "just playing" in the stall I wanted to use.  The mom called the little girl out, and she looked at me and asked, "Why are you going in there?"  I told her, "I have to pee.  Adults pee, too."  The mom and grandmother chuckled.

But what I liked best about that exchange was that she was playing in the bathroom.  Remember when you were little and anything could be a game?  Pushing buttons on a calculator that wasn't on could occupy me for quite some time when I was a little kid.  Putting fake groceries into a bag was also a compelling imaginative exercise.  I remember playing "Space Monkeys" with Sally Hirships on her backyard jungle gym and something that I would now dub "Orphan Boat" with Jenny Gurney on her bunk beds.  The premise of these games was pretty much described by their names, but there were a million variations on a theme.

My imaginative life definitely hasn't stalled, but it's different now that I'm an adult.  Although I will sometimes make up a backstory for an interesting person I see on the street, mostly my imagination takes me through scenarios that happened and I wish had gone differently or consist of my trying to map out how something will go, something I have to do anyway.  And not that there aren't lots of cool things to get lost in when you're grown up, but it's nice to watch Milo playing with things -- the little stuffed animals in his crib, say -- and think that he's got this whole life of funny voices and made-up narratives ahead of him.  I love the concentration of kids in the world of make-believe, and I especially love seeing it start to emerge in my little man.