Transmogrification.
My niece is visiting, and because it rained we played inside. We used a fridge magnet in the shape of a shovel to dig the sandy coloured carpet into sand castles and found an ocean beneath in which we swam as fishes. Her two and a half year old imagination then created a garden and the striped texture of the rug became the rows of a garden in which we planted seeds... I was duly planted and watered and expected to grow. My blue sweater suggested to her that I was Scilla and she sniffed the flower before digging me up and transplanting me to another throw rug garden bed. And when Gran confused by a crawling plant asked if we were playing pony rides, the garden was abandoned in favor of the open range as she saddled and rode the ponies, careful to mount from the left as is proper with horses.
No comments:
Post a Comment
My dear, few, readers you inspire me to keep writing. Thank you.
Comments are moderated to avoid spam and so that I do not have to subject you to that annoying "if you're not a robot" thing.