This was one of the search terms on my blog today. And I’d like to thank the poor unfortunate out there who typed it into Google and got the cogs in my tired, Gimpy-addled brain turning again.
I never had an imaginary friend as a child but if I had, I imagine it would have been someone supportive and positive, always ready with a smile or a kind word when nobody else wanted to be bothered with me.
Now I’m thinking about what my childhood, or indeed, the rest of my life, would have been like if I’d had a Latvian imaginary friend…
While wriggling into my dungarees, would she have rolled her eyes and asked me if I was really going to go out dressed like that?
Would she have made me cut up all my teddies in an effort to create something that resembled a miniature fur and animal print number?
Would my Day-to-Night Barbie constantly have been stuck in Night mode?
Would she have made me surrender my t-bar sandals and socks for something a little more towering? I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have been seen dead accompanying me anywhere on my tin can roller skates.
Whenever I tripped and skinned my knees (which was often), would she have glared into my teary eyes and wondered why she had ended up with the weak, mollycoddled Westerner when there were so many better options out there?
Would she have taught me how to snot rocket at the boys who were mean to me, instead of simply punching them?
Would I now believe that articles are pretty much a waste of time, and omit them from my speech wherever possible? Would I say things like ‘I have two bad newses for you…’?
Would she have convinced me that Irish pork products are not, in fact, superior, and swung me round to a more lardy way of thinking?
Would I believe that nobody, but nobody, except my dearest friends, has the right to ask me how I am?
Would I think that hiding in a bush close to my boyfriend’s place is a perfectly acceptable, even normal, way to spend an entire evening?
Would I now know how to forage in the forest to find everything necessary to make my dinner, instead of nipping to the nearest supermarket?
Thankfully (or not, depending on whether you think foraging and glaring are useful life skills), we’ll never know as I had this chick as my ‘real life’ friend.
But, looking at this photo now, maybe our mothers could have done with a couple of Latvian imaginary friends when it came to choosing our wardrobes?