Is there anything so indicative of childhood as imagination? With fondness I can still recall my most beloved childhood game with my sister, "Cowboys and Princesses" because well, we live in Texas after all and our swingset was the perfect stagecoach.
The other day the three oldest were playing and Mary Colette declared she could fly. The boys were not convinced which of course meant she must show them.
Back and forth, back and forth she ran jumping or rather flying into the air.
She knew she was flying and nothing the boys said could make it untrue, she flew.
(Both boys also went through this exact stage and somehow I missed the charm of it the first two times.)
A few days later, again, the three were playing and all being different characters to which Mary Colette declared that she was Mary Poppins. All agreed then she ran over to me and whispered concerningly, "I'm just pretending to be Mary Poppins, but I'm really Mary Colette. Don't tell the boys!" After all the imagination is powerful and mere adult might mistake the real Mary Poppins and one just pretending to be her.
"Mary Colette, how did you like confession?"
"Good...well not so good. There were a lot of people staring at me and laughing at me."
"They were laughing at you?!"
Hand on hips:
"Yes, they were laughing at me when I was pretending to be a rock."