as i unloaded groceries into the house the other day, the eldest got busy on the driveway scraping dried mud with a plastic shovel.
she wasn't just scraping the mud to the side, or seeing how many piles she could make. . she was creating a place for the pigs to play. pigs named Babe and Far-far, who she kept having to shoo away until she was finished with the mud-scraping.
she came to the backdoor exclaiming she needed to go potty. she literally ran to the bathroom, the whole time yelling 'i have to be quick! the pigs will mess it up! go away pigs!' (running back through kitchen to back door now) 'SHOO! SHOO!'
after lunch clean-up, i joined them outside & suggested a walk (a slow one. up once and down once in front of our house). i came upon a fight scene. miss poopy shorts had joined the eldest in scraping mud, which she viewed as just scraping mud. but apparently it was messing up the eldest's entire Pig Project and she was crying big tears.
i was at a loss. i tried to say things like 'there's more mud over here that you can scrape' or 'miss poopy shorts, that's not your mud; that's the pigs' mud' when clearly there are no pigs in our yard.
finally i gave up & convinced miss poopy shorts to join me on a walk while the eldest stayed back and fixed the pig's mud (yes, i can see her the entire time on my street. put the phone down, weirdos).
and that's just one of the stories from the eldest's ever-growing imagination.