Pretendo!

I blame Owen's babysitter for his current Super Mario Brothers obsession.  The moment she bought a Wii and introduced him to Mario and Princess Peach, he was hooked.  At this point I'd estimate that 90% of our conversations are Mario related, and 100% of our pretend play scenarios begin with the declaration, "I'm Luigi, you're Princess Peach, and Bowser just captured you..." 

Because the Coulter family lives in the technological stone age (no smart phones, no smart TVs, not even Netflix), purchasing a new gaming systems to satisfy what is probably a three-year-old's passing fancy isn't in the foreseeable future.  So you can imagine my delight when I found a dusty Super Nintendo neatly tucked away in my parents' basement.  Overjoyed, we ran home and Neil plugged that sucker into our not-so-smart-TV.  Like a true Super Nintendo veteran, he blew into the Mario game cartridge, placed it in position, crossed his fingers, and flipped the switch to the on position.  When Mario and Yoshi made their debut on our dumb TV's screen, the look on Owen's face was that of I-cannot-believe-Mario-is-at-MY-house-right-now amazement. He exclaimed, "Daddy! The Pretendo works!" and Neil was an instant hero because, as it turns out, three-year-olds don't really know the difference between a brand new Wii and a 20 year old Super Nintendo.  

For me, however, the best part of this story was Owen's inadvertent invention of the word Pretendo.  While it is a fitting description for the ancient gaming system that will serve as a pretend Wii for the next few years, the term Pretendo has come to stand for much more than that.  The word itself was accidentally invented by a child during a moment of pure, unadulterated joy.  There is magic in a moment like that, for a child and for his parents, so it's not surprising that a word created out of such magic would take on a life of its own. Pretendo goes beyond the device for which it is named; In our house, the word Pretendo, when used properly, has the power to grant wishes.  Yes, you heard me right.  It grants wishes. 

To understand Pretendo you must first have the ability to go beyond just "making do" and actually find happiness with what you have right now.  "Making do" implies that what you have right now not only could, but should be better.  It's saying, "I guess we'll just have to...[heavy sigh]... make do until we can get what we really want."  Well, I'm here to tell you that "making do" is nothing but a tedious waste of everyone's time.  With that said, please understand that I am notorious for my impatience; I want what I want and I want it right now, and thanks to my son and his lovely way with words, I have finally realized how to make that happen.  Pretendo!  It. Grants. Wishes.  Allow me to illustrate.

There are times when your son's only wish is to have a Wii.  And sometimes, no matter how hard you wish, you simply cannot justify the expense, so you must go out and do the leg work required to make his wish come true.  Sure, the act of Pretendoing is much more labor intensive than a "make-do" shoulder shrug, but here is the good news: It doesn't matter how old you are or what you're wishing for, if you're smart, creative, and determined, Pretendo will work for you, too!  Don't believe me?  Here's proof of the Pretendo promise:

Like many other young(ish) couples, extravagance is not in our budget.  Luckily for me, I have a husband whose creativity is enhanced by forced frugality.  When I told Neil that all I wanted for Valentine's Day was a bathroom that didn't make me want to die when I walked into it, he used his considerable carpentry skills, a gallon of discounted paint, and a rickety picket fence that was taking up space in our basement, and he made me a "brand new" bathroom.  I'm ecstatic with my there-is-nothing-new-about-it bathroom.  Pretendo!  Wish granted.


When I mentioned that instead of remodeling it might be easier to just set fire to our disgusting kitchen, Neil bought a couple of gallons of paint, I turned an old tablecloth into a curtain, and Pretendo!  "New" kitchen.

  

World's Dumbest Kitchen...

Behold!  The power of Pretendo!

When I hinted that I'd like Owen to have a playhouse, Neil used a couple of pallets and some fence pickets and Pretendoed one out of thin air!

Pretendoing in Action

Viola!  Pretendoed

Yes, I will admit that the power of Pretendo is especially strong with Neil, but the plain fact remains that no matter who you are, if you combine some elbow grease, a little ingenuity, and a healthy appreciation for simplicity, it can take you a long, long way.  I realize that the ease with which we use this magic won't last forever.  For Owen, Mario and Luigi will eventually take a backseat to another fad, and as he gets older and his tastes become more expensive, it won't be as easy to please (and/or trick) him.  The best I can hope for is that his dad and I can instill in him an appreciation for the simple things in life so he'll be able to truly understand the promise of the Pretendo philosphy.

Around here, we don't have granite counter tops, fancy smartphones, mass-produced plastic playhouses, or state of the art gaming systems, but we have harnessed the power of Pretendo.  We are willing and thankful to work with what we have right now, which sometimes isn't a lot but is always so much more than enough.  We manufacture our own happiness and make our own luck at the corner of Locust Street and Avenue B.  Pretendo!  Every single wish granted.