Real

So, I am writing tonight in a very dejected state. Doyle Dame number four, our pint-sized pixie princess informed me tonight that her Harriet--or "Hairy It"--is not "real". The conversation went something like this. We were just in the door from Austin and were scouring the house for the mangled mermaid who hadn't made the trip. I asked Sophie if she thought maybe Harriet had found new friends to play with and where she would be if she were Harriet. "Under here?" "Or wait, maybe she wanted to be in the nice, dark closet. We have to think like Harriet, Sophie. Where would you hide if you were her?" "I don't know, Mama, but anyway, Harriet's not real." It was like a knife to my heart. Not real? That poor, chewed up, extremely loved on, precious doll--not real? I explained to her about the Velveteen Rabbit and how the boy's love had made him real. Sophie's response? Well, that can happen in stories Mama but it's not real. That word again.

I remember the first time I read Little Women. I was in seventh or eighth grade and, like most books, I read that one up my favorite tree. I walked around in a sort of dream-state for days afterward. The language of the book filled my head and Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy, Laurie and the rest were very real to me. I'd say that's true of most beloved characters in literature, movies etc. If they capture our imaginations, they become, in a sense, real. Good reason to be a vigilant gatekeeper of the mind.

So, the question of the night is--how did someone like me end up with such a pragmatic four year old? And--is the Hairy It real? Here's my answer--yes, Sophie, she's very real. She's woven into the fabric of your babyhood, is an irreplaceable part of your memories and you love her. Of course, your confusion over her "realness" may be due to the fact that she did not utter a cry when you chewed off both her arms. I don't know what to tell you about that, dear girl.

Coming Up: Adventures in Austin. We had a great weekend. Thanks for everything to all the Austin Kreitzers!