Some time around when her preschool started their unit on beaches, Sophie started talking about her Other Home in Hawaii. We don’t have a home in Hawaii, of course. I’ve never even been to Hawaii. I don’t know where the idea came from, but Sophie has been telling stories about her Hawaii for a few weeks now, and I’ve been finding her stories fascinating. So, here you go, for your reading pleasure (or armchair psychologizing possibilities): here is Sophie’s Hawaii, as close as I could get to transcribing her own words.
“In my Hawaii, the sun is pink all day and just turns yellow just for a minute before night-time comes. The sky is pink, too, not blue.
“In my Hawaii, the only food is candy, and even though we eat it all day long, our tummies never hurt.
“In Hawaii, I used to live with my boyfriend, but he just sleeps all the time and watches t.v. So I moved in to my girlfriend’s house. She likes to go outside and play. She climbs on the roof with me. We sleep on bunk-beds on the roof, and I get the top bunk, and she kicks up my mattress to give me a lovely ride, and then we eat jellybeans for breakfast. [I have to interrupt here to explain that last sentence is plagiarized from Miriam Young’s sweet book, Jelly Beans for Breakfast]
“I will tell you how many ways she lives: Go past Colorado to Big Bear to Mexico and then to the mountains to a different Big Bear and that’s the place that has my girlfriend’s house in Hawaii.
“In my Hawaii, you can only drive a car if it’s raining. Otherwise, no cars. Also there are no grown-ups and no babies. Only kids who are big.
“There are no chairs in Hawaii and that’s why I like to stand up when I eat.
“Oh, wait, there are chairs in Hawaii, but that’s where we put our food, on the chairs. And you know what we sit on? The tables. We sit on top of the tables in Hawaii and eat our food off the chairs! Isn’t that silly?
“You know what we do in Hawaii instead of text-messaging or emailing? We listen with our ears to our friends.
“And remember, in Hawaii, they only eat candy.”