The Imagination of a Child

I remember days when kids had imaginations. In my swing, I could pretend to be in an airplane soaring high above the ground, or maybe in a Ferris wheel looking at all the little people down below. I didn't need a playhouse because I had a stick, and in the soft dirt, I could draw a house complete with doors and windows. When friends were available, we would make a whole subdivision. We built tree forts, swung from vines hanging loosely in the trees and played with dolls made from socks that resembled monkeys. In my world of imagination, anything was possible.

That's why when I decided to build myself a swimming pool, I never considered that I was taking on a daunting task. I figured you dig a hole in the ground, fill it with water and jump in. Digging in the dirt was not an unusual thing for a child to be doing around our yard, so my mother never gave much thought to my endeavors. She was too busy with her household chores to even notice.

I found what seemed like an appropriate spot to me and started to dig. Although it wasn't quite as easy as I had anticipated, I was determined to have my swimming pool. I kept at it through most of the day and only broke for lunch. When my mother asked what I was doing, I gave her a casual "just playing" and she seemed appeased. After all, I wasn't usually one of those daredevil type children.

After digging for the majority of the day, I decided to wait until the next morning to put the water in it. My elaborate swimming pool was probably about a foot deep and five feet wide, but it looked wonderful to me. Would my mother be surprised.

The next morning I stretched the water hose out to my new swimming pool and started the task of filling it with water. It took quite a while because I discovered a lot of the water soaked into the ground, but soon I had what most adults would call a good-size mud puddle. I couldn't wait to get in.

I stripped down to my underwear and slid myself into the water. I was so proud of myself for having constructed my own swimming pool that I didn't hear our neighbor from down the road drive up. Soon I heard my mother calling.

As I ran to the house, Mrs. Wooten was standing in the front yard with my mother. I had a bad feeling when I saw my mother's expression because her mouth was open but no words were coming out. That is, for a moment anyway.

"Pattie, what in the world have you been doing? You're covered in mud."

As I looked down at my body, I could see why she was so upset, and now I realize embarrassed by her daughter's appearance in front of Mrs. Wooten. "I made me a swimming pool. I was just trying it out."

Needless to say, my mother did not appreciate my building efforts, but instead, sent me immediately in the house to take a bath. Later I heard her tell my father, "I couldn't believe it. Mrs. Wooten stopped by to offer to take Pattie to Sunday School Sunday, and she showed up looking like she'd been rolling in the pen with the pigs. I can't believe it. What she must think of me." I started to give Mother a little oink as a joke, but my father gave me a look that said that wasn't a good idea.

That was my first and last time swimming in my swimming pool, but it wasn't long before my imagination kicked in again, and I wondered if I could make myself some wings. There was this great high bank over a ravine behind our house that I figured would make a great place to take off. And I'd have probably made it, too, if my mother hadn't caught before I actually got to try them out. It really didn't matter because in my mind I was already soaring with the eagles.