​Sometimes we eat fancy.
 
And when I say fancy, I mean the nice plates, real silverware, water glasses, and cloth napkins – all while sitting at the dining room table.
 
Fancy.
 
When I was growing up, fancy dinners happened every night. Though I didn’t really consider them fancy at the time. It’s just what we did. When I got married and started a family, fancy dinners continued – every night. It’s what we did. When company visited, the table was extended to welcome our guests and fancy dinners commenced.
 
I remember years ago while visiting my parents, they shocked me by revealing the fact that they no longer sat at the table for evening meals. Instead, they had invested in dinner trays and settled in the living room in their respective chairs, all while watching the news or a game show.
 
Hardly fancy.
 
I couldn’t fathom eating in this manner. Ever.
 
But then, something happened.
 
My husband and I became empty nesters. Fancy dinners became rare as most evenings we found ourselves eating in front of the TV while watching the news or a game show with plates perched on laps, or in my case, a throw pillow. (Dinner trays are so obsolete.)
 
Hardly fancy.
 
But occasionally, we eat fancy. And we remember the fancy dinners spent with family and give thanks for the memories and the moments that made dinner time precious time.
 
Fancy. 

Mimi, can I run through that field
Just over there?
I want to run free
And smell the fresh air!

The corn is TALL!
And it's so green!
I can hide for days
And never be seen!

I can twirl and sing
And walk down country roads!
I can jump and run 
And catch little toads!

I could stay here forever
And never be bored!
There's so much to do
And so much to explore!

So, can I, Mimi?
Run wild and be free?
I love this place
​Where I can be me!

If you recognize this picture, then chances are you are now chanting the words (sorry about that)!

Of course, the classic children’s story is none other than “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt.”

As a former preschool teacher, I’ve read this book numerous times and I can honestly say I can still chant the words the from memory. But I’ve never paid much attention to the black dog who accompanies the family.

Until Jensen.

Jensen is our 3-year-old grandson and according to him (and unbeknownst to us), a big black dog lives in our house. He announces this fact every time he visits our house. His eyes get wide while his voice lowers to a whisper and for a moment, the house is silent as we acknowledge the presence of the big black dog, according to Jensen.

Recently I insisted Jensen lead me to the big black dog (who just so happens to reside in the basement of our house, naturally). Together, hand in hand, we descended the stairs on our quest to find this ominous creature. So as not to wake the beast, we used our very quiet voices as we searched. We ended up in the guest room (also known as the sleep-over room). Crouched on our knees with a pair of ‘noculars, we peered underneath the bed, in the closet, and finally behind the door (because as we all know, these are the places where big black dogs live).

“Mimi, we are on a big black bear dog hunt, right?”

(Light bulb moment.)

“We sure are, buddy.”

(Did I mention how much I love the creative imagination of three-year-olds?)

Together, we are going on a bear hunt to find a big black dog who lives in our basement under the bed and behind the door and in the closet. It’s an adventure worth exploring with a three-year old who holds a pair of ‘noculars.

And who also holds my heart.

#goingonabearhunt #bigblackdog #authorlife #mimilife #preschool #imagination