There is a myth amongst neurotypicals: that fae children do not engage in imaginative play. How I wish this was true. My daughter weaponises it. She loves nothing better than to drag you into her world of make believe, only to slam you out of it with a bump. I say “bump” – really, I mean more like “three car motorway pile up”. The latest victim of this was the dentist, who, in an effort to make her more comfortable with the idea of having fluoride applied to her teeth, offered to do the process first to her little toy first.
The toy in question was “Rocky” from the Paw Patrol – up until this point, she had been happily showing him around and demonstrating how the pup-pack opened, what tools he had etc. She had not said a word, which is not unusual: she is still prone to silence in situations she finds uncomfortable. The dentist held out the little toothbrush after engaging in the world of talking dogs for a couple of minutes and said ‘shall we do Rocky’s teeth first?’ only to be met with a look of incredulousness bordering on contempt and was told ‘No, it’s a toy.” These were the first words she had uttered throughout the entire check up.
To his credit, the dentist just looked chagrined and said ‘well that told me’ and got on with doing her teeth instead.
Her latest game in the bath is playing with a white, rubber duck that has a unicorn horn. She calls it a ‘uniduck’. This uniduck, we have been informed, can use its horn like a snorkel, and can’t fly on its own. But has a jetpack. That it activates by barking.
If this makes sense to you, then please explain it to me. When I try to make it use its jet pack to ‘fly’ to the sink so I could clean it I was promptly informed I was being silly and it was a bath toy.
She pulls this stunt on unsuspecting adults all the time. I would like to say I haven’t fallen for it, or at least I haven’t fallen for it more than once. I would like to say that but it would be a lie.
Raising the Modern Fae 