Dinosaurs in the Backyard

When Logan was six years old, a child psychiatrist told us that he did not engage in pretend play, and that he had no imagination.

Logan is nine years old now.  Today he ran into the house from the backyard, breathless and excited.  He came up to me and said, "Dinosaurs in the backyard!"

"Really?" I said.  "Dinosaurs?"

"Dinosaurs get you!" he proclaimed.

"Well, be careful out there, " I cautioned, and he was gone.

A little while later he came into the kitchen with a plastic container that I had just washed and the bread pan from my bread machine.  Both had remnants of grass and dirt in them.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"This dinosaur's food, this dinosaur's water," he said.

"Okay.  Put it in the sink."

And he did, and then he disappeared again.  I didn't care about the dishes.  Dishes can be washed.  This is what I cared about:

A boy playing outside, pretending things that little boys pretend.  Of course, it's a few years behind what a normal nine year old is into...but I cannot describe the happiness and satisfaction I feel, watching him come into the house, talking about his "dinosaurs" that he "fed".  And I think that the more I discover of Logan's little world, the more I love it.  These are the days that make the other days worth it.  The days when he's hard to deal with or won't sleep...dinosaurs make up for it.