Thursday, March 11, 2010

Oh Little Playmate

For the past few weeks my daughter has been carting around a dirty, pink sock with crumpled up paper taped on for eyes and a mouth. I’ve come to learn this is her imaginary friend, “Socky.” She started telling me Socky’s likes and dislikes and asked if she could take him to school. My first instinct was to tell her no. I’m not sure you can get away with talking to yourself in Kindergarten. Then I realized if she feels like she needs to roll with a sock, who am I to deny her? Frankly, I’m a little jealous. Who doesn’t want an imaginary friend?

Being a stay at home mom can be lonely. I’m surrounded by amazing friends and family, but they have their own “stuff.” An imaginary friend would chill with me while I clean the kitchen. We could snark about news stories and listen to music. I’d be more inclined to go to the grocery store if I had an imaginary friend with me. It would certainly make cart dancing to Diana Ross a little less awkward. Plus, all the smelling and knocking in the world can’t help me pick the right cantaloupe. I basically need someone to keep my ass in check. I’m enthralled by movies about people who bungle through life until they’re visited by a dead ex-husband or girlfriend or George Burns. People think they’re crazy for a while, but once they’re “shown the way” everything works out. The movie ends with the person knowing they have finally gotten it right.

I started thinking about what kind of imaginary friend I’d want. I couldn’t have a man because I’d want him to look like Michael Vartan. We would end up having imaginary sex while waiting in the pick up line. I don’t really want a girl either. We’d end up on the same cycle and that grosses me out. I’m thinking my imaginary friend is half man/half women. The Michael Vartan half can help me figure out which grade of gas to put in the car and tell me I’m pretty. My imaginary girl half would have my back on the playground with some of the “cracka-ass-cracka” moms.

It could get old though. We would start to argue about working out and she’d tell me my ass is fat. I’d tell her she has a big zit on her chin. We’d realize we’re PMS’ing, hug and then eat something with bacon and cheese. Imaginary friends take on different forms when you’re an adult. It can be drugs, or shopping, or Social Networking. Come to think of it, sometimes I have an imaginary friend named “Sake”, too.

20 comments:

Why Is Daddy Crying said...

I fantasize that your real imaginary friend is the shank you carry around in your boot sock.

Nice post woman...glad to see some new stuff coming out of your wacked-out brain.

Anonymous said...

It all makes sense now. When I talk about my twitter friends to my other friends, they're actually looking at me like I'm dangling a dirty pink sock in their face. Clearly, they're all jealous they don't have their own dirty pink socks. I feel so much better I will now share this knowledge with my RL bff "Zin."

Mom O Matic said...

I agree. I think we should become sister-wives.

shrink on the couch said...

During my SAHM days, I used to wish I had a buzzer I could push which would summon my imaginary friend. She would agree with me, and validate me, and laugh at my jokes. Because I found myself lonely way too much for my own good.

notasoccermom said...

How you did not select a gay man to be your imaginary friend is BEYOND me!! Seriously.....Wouldn't that be like half man half woman??

Love the entry, keep on trucking!

@TheGlassPhoenix said...

@suzspetals I have the same problem talking to my IRL people about my internet people. I usually let it be. And, if you know anything about me, I am my own imaginary friend. It's rather pathetic and can get weird when I am conversating with myself in the check-out line about if I need that Hershey bar or not.. but I've found this way, people leave me alone and don't ask me stupid crap about the weather if they think I'm cracked out and talking to air. But, the old stand-by of sake works too.

Logical Libby said...

Just make sure you're imaginary friend has money. It sucks when they are always borrowing cash from you.

Elly Lou said...

Wait, are you saying that if my imaginary friend is George Burns I shouldn't make out with him in the checkout line? I think my world just shattered. So did George's pelvis.

Rebecca said...

This blog and all the other blogs that I follow are my imaginary friends. I frequently tell my husband "I was reading this one girl's blog and...." and he's all, what's a blog, who is so in so? I'm all, She Is My Friend! Then he's did you go to school with her or something, and I'm all.......uhh, no. He says did you meet her at the park or something? Then I'm all, She lives in California or Florida or somewhere cool and he's You Have Never Even Met Her? And I"m all....she's my friend....and he just shakes his head.........You people are real to me!


**Cool** The word verification is a repeat...I've had it once before! Awesome....AND best part is that I was able to type it with my left hand only...didn't need to let go of the mouse!!

Sabreena said...

I agree, sometimes it feels like my fellow bloggers are my imaginary friends. I too tell my husband about it and it always comes out awkward as it would if I told him my shoes were telling me a funny story the other day. If I did have an imaginary friend it would be a gay man. He would have fashion sense, sensitivity, and be into Michael Vartan. Plus no cycles. Lord knows we only need one of those around here.

Aunt Becky said...

Uh, The Internet is my imaginary friend. It's the ONLY reason I stay sane. This post is perfect, dude. Seriously.

TheFitHousewife said...

You're telling me you don't have an imaginary friend??? Am I the only one? Whoops, did I say that outloud?

MsM said...

I came for the Michael Vartan reference and stayed for the awesomeness! Great post, glad I found this little nugget of funny...wait, what's that? Ok...my Imaginary Friend Blue (Sapphire Gin was too long) wants me to tell you that she liked your post too.

Dani_Zaz said...

Great post. I, too, am a SAHM and yes it does get lonely at times. Would love to have an imaginary friend who wanted to actually pitch in, not just watch me. Heck, she would live there too, right?

Old School/New School Mom said...

I think I might start taking a dirty sock to work and talking to it to creep people out. Your daughter is on to something...

Stone Fox said...

you gotta get yourself a half-man, half-horse imaginary best friend. because then you wouldn't need to worry about what kind of gas you need in your car as you would just ride the horse part. the man part can still tell you you're pretty and probably wouldn't wear a shirt, either. i don't know about you, but the centaur in Hercules (the cartoon) never wore a shirt. just make sure the man part works out and doesn't drink too much beer because an overweight, bloated centaur probably isn't that nice to look at and can't run very fast. and if you ever came across some bitches on the playground, your centaur could leave some road apples and gallop you to safety.

and this is the part where i mention i'm not going to mention the horse's dong.

Unknown said...

I don't think I understood any words I read beyond Michael Vartan. Yum.

Ben said...

Men have sex with imaginary friends all the time, and they're almost always women.

Deanna @ The Unnatural Mother said...

I am crying from laughing so hard, love it!

Sharon said...

Great post. In addition to everything mentioned here, I think imaginary friends should be just slightly less intelligent than we are, allowing us to feel superior and indulgent while annoying us with outright stupidity.