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Always Play Along

There I sat at the dining room table eagerly tap-tap-tapping away on the laptop while my 4 year old step-daughter played under the table, literally at my feet, occasionally hollering up a question or comment. Suddenly an unmistakable odor filled my airspace.  “Shay? Did you pass gas?”

“It wasn’t me. The bear did it.”

She vowed to find the bear and teach him to say “Excuse me." This led to a twenty minute long bear hunt including her handing me a black fuzz-ball (likely from her father’s wool socks) produced as evidence that there was a gassy bear loose in my house. All this to avoid admitting that she was, in fact, the culprit; and that she did not say excuse me. But because I enjoyed her creativity and commitment, I played along.*

Later, as I’m sharing the story and a chuckle with her dad it occurs to me that in a sense, each time I sit down with my laptop attempting to convert my imagination from something ethereal to something corporeal, I’m engaging in my very own bear hunt. There are days where I catch the bear, and some where I come up empty. There are days where all I find is a bit of fuzzball that may or may not be useful. And sometimes, it is really stinky. But because I enjoy the creativity and the commitment, I always play along.

*Indulging her imagination may have set a bad precedent. She spent the weekend passing gas and blaming it on that damn stinky bear.


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