Have you ever had an imaginary friend?
When I was little, I used to pretend I was a member of the Famous Five, (replacing sappy Anne) and we used to have adventures in the garden.
When Robbie was little, he did not engage in imaginary play.
This is a common trait in autistic children – I remember buying a toy farm from Early Learning and spending copious amounts of time and money hand selecting posh animals to inhabit it. I was determined that he would mentally inhabit this plastic animal menagerie.
Unfortunately for me, Robbie’s passion was for trains. So I was bitterly disappointed when I saw him using the head-of-the-herd female cow as a tunnel for one of the underlings.
I digress.
Robbie came out of school about a month ago, cheerily greeted me and we started walking away.
I heard a buzzing sound, and upon a fleeting investigation, discovered that it came from him.
“Robbie? Why are you making buzzing noises?”
“Dudette, I’ve got my bees with me.”
I take a moment.
“What bees?”
“My pet bees, of course!”
Now, I know there has recently been a Minecraft update in which there are bees, (privileged info I know) and clearly it has captured Robbie’s imagination.
“How many pet bees do you have Robbie?”
“Seven thousand, four hundred and eighty six.”
I process this.
“Do they all have names?”
“They do, I’ll tell you later. They are cold, so I’m going to spawn them some coats with my mind. All done!”
Since their arrival, we have sadly lost a few to general weather conditions, but happily, the swarm has managed to multiply by five hundred!
We have added spawned-in imaginary beds to our home, gloves to keep their little bee-hands warm, and hats to protect against the elements.
I have been presented with my very own imaginary bee, called Cornelius, and Robbie lovingly gives them to special people when he is feeling particularly generous.
We are looking forward to the spring, when they can invisibly frolic over the lavender in the garden.
Yet another lesson in how I should never underestimate you, son.
