Papa, can you pretend…

A relentless imagination has emerged.


It all started with an excavator, now simply referred to as a digger. It was maybe two months ago now, Baby’s hand cupped, arm stretched out, serious look on his squishy toddler face: “it’s a digger,” he whispered.

It was on.

Now he turns his body into diggers, crane trucks, cherry pickers, wrecking balls, bulldozers, and his coup de grace, the chomping digger. Anyone who dares answer yes to an innocuous “will you play with me?” will find themselves sitting in what they thought was a living room. Nope, you are now in a construction site, and you are expected to work.

Baby is a job foreman who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. He’ll tell you exactly where to dig, dump, and move. He’ll call you out if you slack on the job. I’ve tried multiple times to lie down and just watch (I did just come off my own work day) but that’s met with a swift “Papa can you sit up?” I’ve also tried to direct us toward the couch (anything to avoid fully sitting up) and I get a “Papa will you come down to the floor?”

One of his current favorites is the cherry picker game, which has two varieties. First: I hold my arm out, palm up, elbow close to the floor. Baby crawls onto my arm, facing outward. My palm comes in and grabs his belly. Then I make the machine sound and lift him up. He then directs me around the house as his fixes power lines. Second: he crawls into the plastic laundry hamper and claims it’s now the cherry picker. You know the rest – up he goes. I probably should’ve just stayed sitting up on the floor and did what he demanded.

He’s a great little pretender! I would rather have him be able to stretch a single object into many games than be overloaded with stuff. He already has too many things, and it’s great to see him choose creativity over needing the next flashy item. Speaking of too much stuff, Mama and I have a great Christmas present in the form of a train table and set. It’s hiding upstairs and I can’t wait to have him discover it Christmas morning. He’s going to love it, and my poor back could use a break.

2 thoughts on “Papa, can you pretend…

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