Allie’s rampant creativity has peaked monumentally. The latest of her creative endeavors is her most recent imaginary best friend, Cleek. That’s right, not Mary, Sally Jo, Kate, or any other name.
It’s Cleek.
The issue with Cleek is that, judging from Allie’s tales about her, she is a tad bit rough around the edges. To put it mildly, Cleek is a street thug.
Example:
Allie: “My friend Cleek was running down the road the other day. Then, she tripped. Then,she got a bleed. And then, she went to…JAIL!”
Me: “Jail?”
Allie: “Yes, JAIL!” (hard emphasis on jail..again.)
Me: “What do you think jail is?”
Allie:”Jail’s where all the polices are and you go there if you’re bad.”
Me: “And your friend–this Cleek gal, she frequents the jailhouse?”
Allie: “Yep. She steals.”
Me: “How old is Cleek? And what does she steal?”
Allie: “Cleek is firteen. She steals blue crayons and people’s dogs.”
Me: *baffled*
You see, Cleek is a thug. I’d like to talk to her, because I have a few questions lined up for her. Like–what the hell is she doing with all of these blue crayons and dogs?
Next week, I imagine that our house will be rather busy since Allie and Cleek will probably be debating whether they should join the Crips or the Bloods. I just hope they don’t bring poor along for the ride.
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