The Imagination of a Nine Year Old Boy

We had a wonderful evening last night with Pony and Wise.  Today Billy Bob is in a much better mood because of it.  When Pony said he’d cheer up his dad, he was true to his word.  We are still giggling over his silly tales. And he and Wise together.  I am over the moon happy that they found each other.  Such a similar path to our own yet uniquely their own. Happy almost anniversary kiddos!

Wise started the conversation  What’s the earliest age you remember something? And from there Pony regaled us with stories. She did too.  Remind me to tell you sometime about her friends Ted and Cruz.  Not to be confused with the politician.  These elderly gentlemen were her neighbors.

Pony: Earliest age?  I do not remember anything before this morning.

Wise: Rage Cage?

Pony (to us): Oh ya.  So remember when you guys kicked me out of my room? I must’ve been nine, 9 1/2?

Billy Bob: We didn’t kick you out.  That was when your sister was born.  Not a lot of options on Huth Dr. for living spaces.

Pony (chuckling): So anyway, you kicked me out of my room but it was okay because you put a TV in my room with a Sega Genesis game console. I was never allowed a TV in my room before then.

Me: And this caused Rage Cage?  You were mad at us or worse mad at your sister?

Pony: No! I always wanted a sibling.  Actually that is my earliest memory … playing on the swing set in the back yard, wishing for a brother or sister to be out there with me.

Pony (continued): Remember the big green Rubbermaid tote that also served as my toy box?  Well, I would remove all my stuff and get in.  Snap it closed and then kick like hell to get out.

Billy Bob (laughing)

Me: What? How did you snap yourself in?  What if you got stuck in there? Did Charlie snap you in there?

Pony: Mom it was 20 years ago.  And there was this whole thing.  I would lay the tote sideways and get in.  Put the lid between me and the bed.  Push against the bed til I heard it snap closed and then roll over to upright the tote before I’d start rage caging it. (chuckling, his laugh. To me, there is no sweeter sound!).  I had to think up stuff on my own. It was fun.  I always broke free.

Wise: That was one of the first stories he told me.  He also used to play Hobo.

Pony: Stop! Don’t say anything else.

Wise: Why? It’s not embarrassing or anything.

Pony: Except for me.  The person we are talking about.

Pony continued: Mom always took me to Elf Louise or the Angel Tree.  To wrap gifts and then deliver.  I met folks down on their luck.  Every year we helped a different family.  I would wonder what it was like to be them.  In the game, I’d turn the shower to cold and get under the faucet part and imagine.  I probably shouldn’t have called the game Hobo but I knew I was very lucky.

Billy Bob: Why didn’t you call the game Navy Seal?

There’s more but at over 500 words, I am FIN.   My imaginative little boy.  FIN is how he ended all those movies he made with his buddies in high school.  Back when the world was his oyster and he wanted to be a film director.  I wonder where the FIN sign is? I wonder if we still have the tapes somewhere around here?  I wonder but in an amazed way.  I am also at peace.

As always, more to come.

9 thoughts on “The Imagination of a Nine Year Old Boy

  1. Oh, my word…how I loved every word of this….and what an imagination your son has! His adventures made me laugh and marvel at the same time….and, something about “playing Hobo” made my throat sting a bit…it was the cold shower and his grateful reflection…so touching….thanks for sharing 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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