I doubt that the imagination can be suppressed. If you truly eradicated it in a child, he would grow up to be an eggplant.*

Yesterday morning I could hear Oscar opening and closing his dresser drawers at 6 a.m..  I closed my eyes and assumed that soon he would be beside me, dressed and ready for his day, telling me that it was time to get up.

 

At 6:30 the door bell rang.  And then rang again and again and again.  Dazed and confused I awoke and yelled for Ian saying, “Go answer the door!  You sleep in clothes every night!!”  But my husband did not stir.

 

I ran downstairs calling for Oscar, a little worried, a little confused, still somewhat asleep.  I opened the door and there he stood.  He had on black shoes, black soccer socks, black pants, a black fleece jacket, a black hat and a black head band that he fashioned over his mouth and up over his ears.

 

Startled I yelled, “What are you doing outside at 6:30 in the morning?  Why are you ringing the doorbell?  What is wrong with you?  Have you lost your mind?  Why are you outside?  WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?  WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUTSIDE??”

 

Oscar very calmly and matter-of-factly replied, “I am a Ninja.”

 

“Oh.  I see.” I said quietly.

 

I walked into the kitchen, sat down, and took him on my lap.  I apologized for yelling at him.  I explained that opening the door so early in the morning and seeing a Ninja standing right in front of me can be a little disconcerting and obviously very upsetting.

 

He gave me a lovely hug and said, “I understand, mom.  I’m not mad.”

 

*Quote from Ursula LaGuin