When I was in kindergarten, I told my classmates that I rode a horse to school everyday.
I lived in the country, it was possible. But it wasn't true, of course. Obviously.
I just wanted to be cool like the girl with boundless energy, pretty hair clips, and the pudding pop snacks in her lunch pail.
I was questioned by her and her groupies as to why the horse wasn't standing outside waiting for me when it was time to go home.
I told them, with a straight face, "I just slap it on its bum and it knows the way home."
During show and tell a kid named Clinton stood up and bragged about the gift his Dad got him. I am from a family of four and cool gifts happened--just not as often as Clinton's did. My Dad was currently in Toronto and we were very excited about him flying home on a plane that night. So I stood up and took my turn with Show and Tell. I told the kids how my Dad was flying on a plane, and how he was in Toronto...and that he was bringing me a tricycle from Toronto.
I still remember the look on my teacher's face when I said that. It was one that was mixed with the arched eyebrow that questioned whether or not I was telling the truth or really believed it and hoped it would happen, crossed with the wide eyes of "how in the world would he fit that in his suitcase!"
I sometimes sit by myself and laugh out loud when I'm alone. I'm thinking of what a tricycle would look like in my Dad's brown suitcase. And how a horse would determine which road to turn down in order to get to my place.