Late last night I was clearing the day’s detritus off the coffee table before heading upstairs to bed, I caught sight of an envelope with my four-year-old son’s handwriting on it, hanging by a piece of string on the handle of the log burner (unlit and stone cold thank God).
I hadn’t noticed it right there in front of me the whole evening I had been sitting on the sofa on my laptop. I set about deciphering the word he’d written: ‘Kloast’. It took me a few moments but I am well-practised at reading his phonetically spelled sentences, and I realised he’d written Closed.
A wave of guilt washed over me. We’d had a really busy day yesterday with two of my friend’s children over at the house most of the day, and as I’d been rushing around trying to clear up the chaos whilst simultaneously cooking their evening meal (nothing new there), my son had asked if I would play shops with him. He asked me two or three times, telling me he’d set it all up, and every time I told him that it wasn’t a good time of day, that I was busy, and that it was nearly time for bed.
While it’s true that in this instance I was really busy and it really wasn’t a good time of day, I admit that I will do anything to get out of imaginary play – I rather shudder at the mention of those two words. Give me any amount of cooking, baking, crafting, singing, dancing, word games, board games, you name it! Virtually anything else and I’m there with bells on (as long as I’ve had coffee). But imaginary play just fills me with dread and I still can’t really put my finger on why. It’s the thing I always try and avoid if I can (fortunately my mother-in-law is superb at it) and I suppose, well, it’s because I find it boring.
But you know what, we all know how important imaginary play is for our children’s development, and while I know I probably won’t be embracing it on a daily basis, my son’s handmade shop sign slightly broke my heart. It reminded me that sometimes, we just have to damn well get down on the floor on our hands and knees and play whatever it is they want to play with them. One day when our children are grown up and we’re waking in the night wanting to know if they’re okay, we’ll so miss those days of make-believe.
Here’s a picture of his sign:
