I’m watching my third grader ride her bike out the living room window while I work. I’m equal parts enchanted by her imagination and saddened by it. It didn’t used to be that way. Back when school and friends took up a majority of her days, this independent, imaginative play was a balanced cacophony — social butterfly during weekdays, solo enchantress on weeknights and weekends.
I’m watching my third grader ride her bike out the living room window while I work. I’m equal parts enchanted by her imagination and saddened by it. It didn’t used to be that way. Back when school and friends took up a majority of her days, this independent, imaginative play was a balanced cacophony — social butterfly during weekdays, solo enchantress on weeknights and weekends.
