Bobby Twoey and the Ceiling Cats
Friday afternoon, I had lunch with my mother and grandmother. For whatever reason, we got on the subject of imaginary friends. My mom reminded my grandmother that my brother and I (but not my sister I don't think) had imaginary friends when we were little.
I had a friend named Bobby Twoey. He was with me all the time. I'm pretty sure his name has something to do with my hearing about my older cousin, Bobby. And the fact that I was two.
My brother apparently didn't need human companionship. He had cats that lived on the living room ceiling. There were either five or six of them and they were each a different color. Orange, green, purple, etc. They'd jump down from the ceiling to play.
While I don't remember much about Bobby Twoey, I have always known about him (of course, I'm not sure if I know about him because I remember, or because my parents told me when I was a little older). I do remember the cats pretty well, though. I guess I was old enough then to understand, but not so old that I couldn't appreciate the pets.
So we were talking about this and I started wondering what imaginary friends say about the kids who have them. Were the differences between Bobby Twoey and the cats good predictors for the differences between my brother and me? And does the fact that my sister didn't have an imaginary friend mean something about her?
There's a lot on the Internet about imaginary friends, but it seems like most of it is designed to reassure parents that their kids aren't freaks just because they talk to the air. I can't find anything that explains how specific IF characteristics might be precursors to personality characteristics or areas of interest that emerge later.
Interestingly, though, this article talks a lot about kids having IFs at later ages - even until they are in middle school. It suggests that teenagers who keep diaries are working within a similar framework as kids with imaginary friends. That certainly fits for me - I gave my diary a name and talked to it like it was a person.
That also makes me wonder if traditional diary-keeping is tapering off now, as teenagers start blogs. But I digress.
Anyway, imaginary friends. New topic of interest.
I had a friend named Bobby Twoey. He was with me all the time. I'm pretty sure his name has something to do with my hearing about my older cousin, Bobby. And the fact that I was two.
My brother apparently didn't need human companionship. He had cats that lived on the living room ceiling. There were either five or six of them and they were each a different color. Orange, green, purple, etc. They'd jump down from the ceiling to play.
While I don't remember much about Bobby Twoey, I have always known about him (of course, I'm not sure if I know about him because I remember, or because my parents told me when I was a little older). I do remember the cats pretty well, though. I guess I was old enough then to understand, but not so old that I couldn't appreciate the pets.
So we were talking about this and I started wondering what imaginary friends say about the kids who have them. Were the differences between Bobby Twoey and the cats good predictors for the differences between my brother and me? And does the fact that my sister didn't have an imaginary friend mean something about her?
There's a lot on the Internet about imaginary friends, but it seems like most of it is designed to reassure parents that their kids aren't freaks just because they talk to the air. I can't find anything that explains how specific IF characteristics might be precursors to personality characteristics or areas of interest that emerge later.
Interestingly, though, this article talks a lot about kids having IFs at later ages - even until they are in middle school. It suggests that teenagers who keep diaries are working within a similar framework as kids with imaginary friends. That certainly fits for me - I gave my diary a name and talked to it like it was a person.
That also makes me wonder if traditional diary-keeping is tapering off now, as teenagers start blogs. But I digress.
Anyway, imaginary friends. New topic of interest.
posted by Kit Pollard at
3:50 PM
1 Comments:
I don't actually remember telling dad that, since I was about 2, but I do know the story.
Parked his truck (not a car-a truck) down the street and locked me in my room. Which is funny, since I didn't have a lock on my room.
A few years later, Mom discovered that Tom and I were acting out scenes from Guiding Light. I think she stopped watching when she noticed we were acting out a murder.
Lots of creativity in the early Waskom years...
By
Kit Pollard, at 11:45 AM
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