I think I was in the other room hoping you were asleep.

I just walked into Pete's room, about ten minutes after he went to bed, because he was yelling for me to do our ritual of cuddling for a second in a rocking chair before counting to ten and blasting off (lots of rocket sounds) into his bed. Upon my arrival, Pete gave me this monologue:

I was being silly in my crib (pron. "cri-buh").
I thought my pillow was a cabinet.
I thought my pillow was a cabinet with lots of toys in the drawers.
I was PRETENDING my pillow was a cabinet.
I think you were in the cabinet, Papa!

The very special kitchen implement and other stories

from Carolyn

Last night Pete, out of the blue, started jumping on big pillows and hooting [the name of our friend, biology professor] "Jackie Brown! Jackie Brown!" Then he looked at me like he'd had a big revelation and said, "I'm Jackie Brown!" and went back to jumping and hooting.

He's been having trouble getting to sleep this week, and last night he seemed stuck in a bad place--cranky, wanting Erik to come and fly his planes around his crib, thinking he was wet when he wasn't. I decided he needed something to kick him out of the mental bog he was in, so I grabbed a small whisk from the kitchen and brought it up to him. I explained that it was a whisk and that he was going to be in charge of it for the night. I left him marveling at the shape of it, and that was the last we heard from him. Oh, thank you, whisk.

This morning:
Pete [flying a toy airplane around his crib]: Look, mama! Airplane!
Me: Yes!
Pete: There are people on the plane!
Me: Yes!
Pete [suddenly serious, as if he were correcting me]: *Pretend* people, Mama.