Saturday, January 28, 2012

Reality Vs. Imagination

And the dead shall, not a zombie apocalypse, just something worthy of resurrecting my dead blog. What is worthy of such feat? Imagination. Yep, boys and girls, I have found the secret to a happy existence. Imagination. The secret of life is learned from a little child. My beasties have a LARGE repertoire of imaginary scenarios to choose from. The idea occurred to me last night as I was tucking my youngest son into bed. He insisted on wearing a black cloth around the lower half of his face due to the fact he was the "lightning ninja" and ninjas wear black masks. After explaining he might just suffocate during the night and there could be nothing more un-ninja like than that, he settled for clutching it in his hand with the promise of wearing it in the morning. Why would this inspire me? Well, what I haven't explained is he also didn't want to go to bed until he realized ninjas sleep is also like need energy and ninjas can sleep anywhere, anytime (ok, there might have been a little brain washing from me on that one). He decided bed wasn't such a bad idea. Hmmm...maybe we're onto something here. Yep, this morning the wheels were turning and I thought I'd try a little of the imagination thing for myself. And let me tell you, it is AMAZING! See for yourself.

Scenario: I am lounging in my bed.

Imagination: I am lounging in my bed against soft and fluffy pillows dressed in a lovely grass green peignoir. My hair is naturally, of course, cascading softly over my shoulders in large curls and I am darlingly fresh-faced after a rewarding night of beauty sleep. I am relaxing to the sounds of my children laughing and playing downstairs, while I read an enlightening book and munching on calorie-free bonbons (uh, lets make it red-velvet cherries from Albanees, yum).

Reality: (brace yourself) I am lounging in my bed against soft and limp pillows-probably due to the fact they are not much more than dust mite fodder. My hair is a relative rat's nest, yesterday's curls are not handling beauty sleep becomingly. I am not wearing a beautiful peignoir...I am wearing an old tee of Kit's and exercise pants-hmmm, smelling slightly stale...could be due to the fact I have worn them to bed a couple of nights already this week or maybe because my sheets need to be washed. Could be. I know I have dragon breath and the darling sparkles in the air are caused by dust fluttering down from the blades of my fan as it spins. My children are playing together downstairs, but the laughter is starting to get that shrill edge to it, a sure indication of intervention needed soon. No enlightening book, just me clicking away on the laptop, And no red-velvet cherries. Sigh...probably a good thing since they are not calorie free and I would be stuffing them down my throat as fast as my greedy hands can scoop them up. I am chewing on a broken nail, though.

See, imagination is so much better than the reality! The images make me smile...

You may think my reasoning silly, but when I'm smiling sweetly as I separate laundry (Imagination: I'm Cinderella {a beautiful dark-haired version} sweetly going about my chores my wicked step-mother created for me) and you are begrudgingly doing yours, you might just buy into my secret of happiness.