On another blog that I like to visit, www.pinkladiesblog.com, one of the Ladies was talking about people who walk around with their own private movies playing in their heads.

Now, I could easily be accused of that. I once got stopped by a policeman while driving, because I was carrying on an animated (too animated, I guess) mental conversation with Sir Arthur Sullivan.  Yeah, I know.  I was telling him all about rock 'n roll music.  Luckily, I was only given a warning, and  continued quietly on my way.

My son's the same way. It makes it hard for him to concentrate in school. What an imagination he has--and he's only six years old.

He likes to go with me to the grocery store and ride in one of the carts shaped like race cars. But he's not a NASCAR guy--he pretends he's driving a school bus, and all the groceries have to enter the "bus" through an imaginary door to his right. No tossing things straight into the basket when he's driving the bus!

We stop at the end of each aisle and check for oncoming traffic. Some of the groceries occasionally act up, and he has to tell them sternly to settle down and keep their hands to themselves.

For reasons I can't even begin to fathom, the eggs are the worst offenders.  On one trip,  I had gone through the motions of parading the carton of eggs through the "door" and down the "aisle," and laid them down on top of some cans of beans. I started pushing the cart again, heading for the cheese section, when he suddenly yelled out, STOP THE BUS!"

Startled, I said, "What? What's going on?"

"Those eggs just spit on the window! They're going to have to come sit beside me until they promise to behave."

The eggs must have been chastened by this punishment, because we made it all the way home without any further egg-incited misbehavior.

It's too bad that nobody tests imagination and creativity. He'd be in like Flynn.