Fantasy Play

Children enjoy fantasy play.  That’s not a news flash. We’ve all been there, trying to help some poor child learn to read ‘the’ when Johnny totters up and tells you, in their most serious voice, that there is a big, green, hairy monster outside who is trying to eat Nabil. Further advice ensues of how you really should go out there and rescue Nabil, and you have to think on the spot to devise a plan of action that allows you to go along with their play whilst maintaining attention on Sarah who is now triumphantly shouting out ‘tu-he, tu-he, tu-he’ after dutifully segmenting and blending her sounds.
You manage to reassure Johnny that you will soon be coming along soon to fight the monster whilst endowing him with the responsibility to see that he saves Nabil himself. He trots off with his new found sense of importance, and you go back to explaining those s**ding ‘tricky words’, making a guilty promise to yourself to set aside some time to play properly with Johnny to avoid damaging his creative spirit forever.

So later on in the day you see Johnny charging around the fancy dress stand in his favourite Spiderman outfit, complete with mask and sculpted chest. He appears to be chasing himself. Score! The perfect opportunity to redeem yourself from your dismissive stance of earlier that day. Bubbling with excitement you bound over to Johnny, peer in through his eye-mask and start off with a simple ‘Hi Spiderman, what are you up to today?’ (Remember the child always directs the play…).

Johnny turn to look up at you and you see the glimmer of a frown in his widened eyes; Spiderman must be too busy to deal with interruption from the little people today. You voice something along those lines, at which point the lifts up his mask, his little face creased in confusion, and replies, in his best ‘keep this simple and don’t use big words because you are talking to an idiot’ voice, ‘Umm, I’m not Spiderman? I’m Johnny?’

'Oh,’ you reply, a little too stunned to be more eloquent. ‘Terribly sorry, my mistake…’. With one last disdainful glance Johnny lowers his mask and charges off once more, and you drift off to stop Sean trying to drink out of the soapy water tray.

(Anyone else who grew up in this country in the ‘80s remember that Heinz spaghetti ad? Excited Father: ‘And this must be … a boat then!’ Unimpressed child: No Dad, that’s a sausage’. (Discount this part if you are sitting there wondering if what I’m talking about and if I’ve finally flipped…))