The other day, as I was putting the boys to bed, they were birthing stuffed cats. Both of them had them under their shirts. They were yelling loudly, as if in labor. After birthing multiple kittens a piece, the "babies" hogged up their bed space. Then the would be off spring pushed the innocent boys out of their beds. This was all quite a show, and Moonbeam got in on the act running around the room yelling excitedly. Perhaps she was pleased to be becoming "an aunt".
I'm not sure what bizarre twist of imagination birthed this idea, but I wonder if it had to do with what happened the other day. We had arrived at Bible Study and Super Catman announced to the other children that he was "part cat". When the kids scoffed, he began hissing and scratching his "paws" in the air. This too was quite a bit bizarre, but not all that unusual. I never know what my boys will come up with next.
Art Dog also added fuel to the fire when writing and illustrating a reading primer for Super Catman. Super Catman, hero of the story, was once a normal boy with a cat. At the beginning of the story, the normal little boy's cat poops in his potato patch. As the boy is eating potatoes from his garden, he notices they taste strange. Just then a pack of wolves threatens the boy. He instantly turns part cat and picks a fight with the leader. Then he chases and almost eats a mouse which he gives to his cat. Later on, the mutant boy devotes his life to fighting crime. All from his cat pooping in his potato patch - go figure that's some kinda doo doo. Consequently, I have warned Super Catman NOT to play with or eat any cat poo. He has promised to restrain himself.
I suppose that I should be glad my boys have such an active imagination. The fact that I'm blogging about it shows I am (most of the time). I suppose I'd rather deal with birthing kittens at bed time than real issues most kids face today. What did you pretend to do between the ages of 7-12?
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3 comments:
A mountain man, from the time I was little until the time I was almost an adult (and occasionally still), I was going to be a mountain man. I built forts in what little bit of woods we had (which wasn't much growing up next to corn fields in Nebraska) dreaming of living in the woods like Jim Bridger. Anytime I was in the woods I had a weapon of some sort, when I wasn't old enough I would sneak a knife out, when I was old enough I had one of my own along with a BB gun, bow and arrow, or a 22 rifle. I guess I'm somewhat close to that dream now living where I live. My biggest hindrances to that dream though were junk food, having kids, and a soft bed at night next to a certain warm lady. You just don't get that stuff out in the woods of some cold mountain.
Oh, I love this!
Boys! They are so silly...good clean fun. I liked what you said about putting up with them birthing cats at bedtime than other things. Yes! Blessings abound at your house. Oh, what was I doing at those ages, hm? Well, we lived on a hill and I liked to ride my red wagon down the hill and smash it into a fire hydrant. Also liked to roller skate down the hill and spin out at the bottom. Lotta scrapped up elbows and knees till I got that accomplished without falling down.
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