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Damn horses

August 26, 2010

The 5-year-old’s been doing well with going to bed early since starting kindergarten – until last night.  Maybe I should be concerned when she says, “I have too many things in my head, and I can’t kick anyone out of the party.” But as a guy who’s had plenty of experience with mental health professionals myself, I tend to let those kinds of things slide. Plenty of visitors in my head, too.

I resorted to the old “counting sheep” thing, since if there are characters in her head already, what’s a few sheep matter, right?

“OK, Sophie, close your eyes,” I say quietly. “See that pretty green field?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Now, look at that pretty blue sky. Isn’t it beautiful?”


“And there’s a long wooden fence.”

“It’s white.”

“The fence is white?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good – now look at all those sheep. Are they white, too?”

“Yes, fluffy white, with black noses.”

“Yep. Now, the sheep are going to jump over the fence, and we’re going to count them.”


“Here they go – one…”

“That was a horse. You didn’t see those two horses come in? You counted a horse, Daddy.”

Yep, there’s a party up there, alright.


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