May 20, 2005

My imaginary friend doesn’t like you

By Dona Nichols
Times Columnist

I never had a woobie blanket or an imaginary friend when I was a child. Apparently I wasn’t very popular in the world of make-believe because all my friends had a pulse and a beating heart. I was aware of the concept, but as a child, I was far too rational to allow an imaginary playmate into my sophisticated circle of friends.

While we’re on the subject of my childhood, I should point out that I was also perfect and odor-free. Humility was a high-ranking trait too, but I digress from the “imaginary” subject at hand.

When my oldest child, Cody, was 4, he started talking about someone named Cindy. I assumed she was a playmate from his preschool. One day I asked Cody if he would like to take piano lessons and he said, “No, but Cindy plays the piano.”

I later learned that Cindy rode a unicycle and juggled too.

“Cindy must work at the pre-school,” I thought to myself. One day as I picked him up from school, I told him I’d like to meet his friend.

“Cindy’s not my friend,” Cody said. “She’s my wife. She lives in New York City with my 13 brothers.”

As I read through my parenting books, I learned that imaginary friends are part of a child’s healthy development. I didn’t see anything about imaginary wives.

One expert suggested that parents should set a place at the dinner table for their child’s imaginary friend. I’d have to rent a banquet hall to accommodate Cindy and the 13 brothers. Why should I? Heck, he didn’t even invite me to the wedding, and now I’m supposed to be a gracious and doting mother-in-law.

Cody had never been to New York City, but in his world of make-believe, he was there on a daily basis cavorting with his wife and 13 brothers. I enjoyed listening to him talk about the exciting life he shared with Cindy. They went to the circus every day and ate cotton candy for dinner.

“I sure hope one of those 13 brothers is a dentist,” I thought to myself.

After several months of hearing about Cindy, we went to the Ringling Brothers’ Circus. We were about 30 minutes into the three-ring production when Cody stood up and screamed, “There’s Cindy.”

He was pointing to a beautiful young woman dressed as a butterfly who was sailing through the air while hanging from her teeth. I’m pretty sure she was wearing a wonder-bra beneath her costume.

His fantasy ended the very next day as we were looking at our official circus souvenir program. When we got to the page that pictured the butterfly woman, I said, “Cindy sure is beautiful.”

“I have something to tell you Mommy,” Cody said. “I’m not really married. I don’t have a wife named Cindy and she doesn’t live in New York City. I don’t have 13 brothers either.”

A few years later, my daughter, Alexis, started chatting about her imaginary friend, Ghosty. Not to be left out, her twin brother, Dylan, asked if she would share her imaginary friend with him. Isn’t that just like twins to share an imaginary friend?

Ghosty was an imaginary friend of convenience that caused a lot of trouble when it came to seating arrangements. Alexis refused to let Cody sit next to her in the car because Ghosty was sitting there.

A screaming match between Cody and Alexis ensued. Later, after things had settled, we were driving down the freeway and Alexis said, “Cody, my imaginary friend doesn’t like you anymore.”

I didn’t need an expert to tell me what that meant.

In hindsight, all of these imaginary friends are easy to explain. Cody’s imaginary wife and 13 brothers make perfect sense because this is a child with an ego the size of Montana.

Dylan’s need for Alexis to share Ghosty with him makes sense because he always wants what the other two have. Cody and Alexis could have bubonic plague and Dylan would want it. I can hear him whining now, “How come they have it and I don’t?”

Alexis continues to fight with Cody. Recently she punched him for stepping on her shadow, which under California state law, is her space. It’s plausible that her imaginary friend would share her dislike for her older brother.

As for me, I think I’ll sip champagne and toast my new imaginary husband who will give me a foot-massage the moment he’s done with his housework.

Dona Nichols teaches journalism at San Jose State University and Evergreen Valley College and does stand-up comedy on the side at the Improv in downtown San Jose. She lives in Evergreen with her husband and three children.