Our yard harbors many things. Two small tornadoes (um, I mean, children), one spastic yet elderly bichon frise, more ants than I care to count, barred owls, the occasional hawk, a great blue heron, and now … dragons.
I had no idea we had a dragon until Friday afternoon, when the twins came racing in from the back yard, shrieking, “Mommy, there’s a dragon!”
My immediate response: “Well, what are you doing in here? Get out there and slay it!” (You would have said the same thing, right?)
So, with no planning and much intensity, the twins commenced Operation Slay the Dragon. What they lacked in organization, they made up in imagination. First, they marched around the yard looking very purposeful. Then they both picked up sticks, chased the dog for a moment, and then began sword fighting with the sticks, pausing occasionally to yell, “Arrr!” This prompted my Inner Mommy to start screaming that someone was going to lose an eye.
(Let me add here that my Inner Mommy is waaaay too uptight, so I shut her up by tweeting about the incident. I mean really. What are the actual odds of someone losing an eye?)
The twins tend to lose interest in their imaginary games quickly (see transition from Operation Slay the Dragon to Operation Pirate, supra), so I assumed the dragon would be gone after their afternoon nap.
Instead, the children awoke and ventured into the yard, only to return, screaming, to announce that we now had five dragons. I sent them back out to slay the beasts, figuring that five dragons should buy me at least half an hour to write or read in peace.
Silly Mommy.
It took less than a minute for my son came running back into the house, and I made a feeble attempt to shoo him back outside to slay the rapidly multiplying dragons. “But Mommy!” he screeched. “These dragons are friendly! Can we keep them?”
“I don’t know,” I said, warily. “How big are they?”
By this time, his sister was at the door as well. “Mommy, they’re so cute!” she squealed. “And they’re red. And there’s a mommy dragon, and a daddy dragon, and baby dragons!”
And that, dear readers, is how we found ourselves out at our favorite Friday night pizza joint with our two children and three imaginary (red) dragons. As if we weren’t weird enough.
Neither of my children could be called shy, but my son is particularly outgoing (read: physically incapable of keeping his mouth shut for more than ten seconds). When our waitress got to the table, the first thing he did was order water.
For his dragon.
I don’t know what triggered it, but in the past month, it’s as if God flipped the switch on my kids’ imaginations from “nonexistent” to “on.” It’s wonderful to watch them pretending to bake cupcakes out of plastic cups, playing policemen or pirates in the back yard, or carrying around pretend baby animals. Well, except for the week they carried around imaginary baby crabs, and my son loudly announced to everyone he saw at church, “I got crabs!”
The whole thing reminds me of ancient maps. When the map reached places uncharted, it was assumed those places were dangerous, and the maps were often marked with the phrase, “Here there be dragons.”
We are in uncharted waters. So far things are fun, but I have no idea what’s going to pop up next. My first thought is that quote from Jaws, “I think we’re going to need a bigger boat.”
My second thought is, “I wonder where I can get one of those ‘Here there be dragons’ signs for the front door?”
Until then, I think I’ll go to bed only after saying the old English prayer my parents always had hanging on their bedroom wall:
“From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggitie beasties, Good Lord deliver us.”
I want an imaginary dragon.
I will give it water.
I will even give it a margarita.
Cause, well, I fundamentally think it would be cool to have a dragon on my side.
I mean, who would mess with me then?
Well, we have a few extra. I'll gladly give you one. At the rate they're multiplying over here, we should have no problems replacing it.
The dragons we currently have in stock are quite small, though, tiny enough to ride on the shoulder of a three year old. If you receive yours and want it to grow bigger, for that doberman-on-steroids look, I suggest feeding it many margaritas, and perhaps single malt whiskey.
They also like pizza.
I totally think you need that sign for your door. I think I need one too. Maybe we can start a shop.
I can see the bigger boat sign being a big hit with the “pool” crowd too. You've got a small business on your hands!
Maybe the twins can imagine us some profits too.
i love the idea of a “Here there be dragons” sign.
I love stories of imagination.
I love my imagination.
My older daughter has always been very literal and concrete. Her magic is of the nuts and bolts kind.
I drive her crazy.
But my younger daughter?
She? Is filled with glittering dreamy magic.
I also drive her crazy.
Snort!
How fun! Honestly, my first reaction was to slit my eyes suspiciously and wonder just what kind of creature they had found. I am so gullible.
Oh how my son would've loved “Here there be dragons” on our door when he was young! Love imagination in both the young and not so young!
I LOOOOOOOOOVE listening to my 5 y/o pretend. It cracks me up! This dragon business would so happen at our house, too. It's all about Star Wars over here, though. I have 2 sons, too! They keep me soooo busy, but, like you, I wouldn't exchange one of them for a sweet, mild, calm girl. Or would I? No, no…I'm keeping them both.:) (BTW, I'm grabbing your button!)