Make Believe Wednesdays #1

Okay, so I'm trying to come up with fun and amazing things to blog about. I'm the worst natural blogger ever, so I'm always looking for a theme. :) I came up with Make Believe Wednesdays after my daughter's Czech Folk Dance last weekend. While the couples spun around the floor in their bright dresses, I watched a group of little girls twirl next to their parents. One in particular watched the dancers with a more than above average interest. I believe that in her mind she became one of the girls dancing. Every bow, every dip, she was a heartbeat behind. I have it on video, but didn't get permission from the parents, so I won't air it here.

Anyway, I'm getting off track. Seeing this child pretend that she was dancing with that group, made me think back to all of the many pretend moment's that I had as a child. Quite frankly, without make believe I may not have survived my childhood--teens--adulthood. All the years of playing pretend has developed my overactive imagination into a well oiled tool for creating the written art. *wow, that sounded cheesy.*

I'm introducing you to my creation today and over the next few weeks you'll see some wonderful authors share with you what they used to pretend. I tease that it's what we did before cell phones and social media, but it's not really a tease, is it?

 

So, for my first embarrasingly fresh story, I'll rat myself out about my huge Reba fetish. When I was a teen, I'd pass the time while washing dishes singing to Reba Yes, that Reba. And I used to sing Fancy on repeat--over and over.

I'd sing into a spoon, a fork, it didn't really matter. If you've never heard the song, it's basically about a mother that dresses her daughter up as a "lady of the night" to find a better life for herself before the mother dies. It's a horribly sad song with a fast tempo.

But, I used to stand there and sing into my spoon, and envision myself dressed up in a red dress, like the one Fancy wore, weaving my way through a room full of men. I'd step up on the stage and they'd begin bidding for me. For my virtue. Oh, the sadness. Tears would fall, I'd cry out, "No, Momma, don't make me a whore."

Then the song would end and I'd start the pretend game all over again. Sometime I'd waltz that red dress over the deck of a river boat or twirl through the streets of New York.

This probably wasn't exactly the pretend that you'd thought I'd share, but it's the first one that came to mind.

Next week we'll have another lovely guest on and I'm sure she'll give you something a tad more innocent, but who knows...maybe not.

So, do you have a fave pretend moment to share?