My children are lucky enough to have a space in the house which is their ‘playroom’. I was lamenting with another mum at work how I have to remind them to tidy up their playroom and that “it is not MY playroom.”
The other day I found myself adding to that sentence suggesting that I would not have their kind of toys in my playroom if I had one.
Then I wondered, what sort of toys would I have in my playroom (keep it clean, please) and this brought the realisation that I actually do have a playroom.
The streets are my playroom.
That is where I go for imaginary play, to mimic life in order to make sense of it, to escape from responsibilities.
Running is my playroom and I am so glad that I don’t really have to grow up.
Pity there is not a lot of time for running in my life at the moment. I need to make time for my playroom.
Where is your playroom?