Addi has a fantastic imagination. She’s constantly making up stories about imaginary friends or pets and then acting parts of that story line out for weeks. Then, getting frustrated and upset when you forget the name of her friend. THEN, spending 15 minutes sobbing.
She’s such a gem.
This week her best friend is her imaginary big brother, Rowdy. Rowdy is 16 and in kindergarten (apparently he’s not too bright) and each morning we drop him off in the yellow room at school. Then at night, I listen to Addi taking orders from him, then blaming him when she gets in trouble for whatever mis-deed she’s done.
Lucky for me, Addi also likes me to document said indiscretions, so I can look back and laugh/groan/cry as needed. Like this morning, Addi and Rowdy unbuttoned my duvet cover on my bed, climbed inside, and made a fort. A fort complete with pillows, blankets, rogue pacifiers, a book and several plastic horses. When I
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