PEEK-A-BOO

- This is My Friend, Toby -

"I know, they don't understand..."

"They could never understand...." 

"At least, I know you're real..."

"Thank you for being my friend, Toby. I was really sad when mommy and daddy didn't have time to play with me anymore..."

"What was that Toby?"

"Oh! Yes, I promise to be your best friend forever. I promise you that mommy and daddy won't get in the way of our friendship."

"Yes, Toby, yes! I said I promise!  I'm not a liar like your other friends!"

"My mommy taught me to always keep a promise, so I won't lie to you. Okay?"

"Yay!"

"Rye! It's time for lunch," I sung into the hall. "Coming!" I hear my son respond. He waddles down the stairs, careful not to fall. He runs over to the round wooden table, a wide smile on his face. "You seem happier than normal," I remark, setting his food in front of him. "I made a friend!" He exclaimed, ignoring his sandwich and oatmeal raisin cookie. "Tell me more," I ask. He started to jump up and down in his seat, excited to talk about his friend. "His name is Toby, and I met him in the closet!" I set a glass of milk down to go along with his meal. I was slightly confused at his statement. In the closet? If anything, it would have been the park. Maybe he was playing hide n' seek with someone, and that's what he meant.

He continued his rant, "You finished reading to me, and then I fell asleep. That's when Toby appeared. He was in my closet, and was making a lot of noise, so I couldn't sleep. I went over to say, "shhhhh," and he was there. He said his name was Toby when I asked. We talked for a long long long time, and then he asked me if I wanted to be his friend." 

My eyes were wide. I was filled with confusion. What?  Trying to understand what was happening, I tried my best to assume it was an imaginary friend. Although, that's a weird way to meet an imaginary friend. 

My son started eating his sandwich, 2/4 of it being untouched. Same thing with the cookie. "Aren't you gonna eat the rest?" I ask him. He picks up the plate, and says, "I'm saving the other half for Toby." He then turns, and walks upstairs to his bedroom with the plate of food. "Children and their imaginations," I chuckled to myself.

————————

Walking pass my son's room, laundry basket in my arms I hear him talking.

"Oh, okay." 

Then there was silence. Then he talked again.

"Mhm! I'll make sure! Just for you, Toby."

It sounded like he was having a conversation with someone. Almost like a phone call, expect he didn't have a phone. "Toby?" I say quietly to myself, peeking through the open door space. Rye then suddenly turned his head to the door. "Were you listening to our conversation, mommy?" He asks me with a deadpan expression. I was startled. "I— um—," I didn't know what to say. I slowly enter his room, setting the basket on his bed. His eyes followed me the whole time. "N-No, sweetheart, I wasn't listening to your conversation.....I was just passing by and h-happen to hear you talking to someone—" He cuts me off. 

"Toby said you were eavesdropping."

"I— No, sweetheart. I wasn't." 

How could a four year child know that word?