Imaginary friends

J has a classmate who has a girlfriend. An imaginary girlfriend. He's kissed her, they've broken up, he likes her. He misses her. J thinks it's weird that his classmate has an imaginary friend. And that she's a girl. See, girls are horrible creatures. They are not worthy of a boy's time. They exist solely to plague boys (of course it doesn't help that his nemesis is a girl, and that she teases him all the time). (Secretly I am so frigging stoked he still thinks this way about girls! But I digress.) What has J so freaked about this imaginary friend is that his classmate talks about her all.the.time. Like, get into trouble talk which gets you sent to the Headmaster's office. Yes, he spoke so much about this imaginary girlfriend yesterday that he ended up disrupting the class and was sent off to have a chat with the Headmaster. Poor kid.

In my day, imaginary friends were friends who always got the blame for putting socks on the cat's paws, or eating the last of the jelly and custard, or who wrote on the wall, or who busted your bike because they told you to try and stand on the seat while going at warp speed down a gravel road. Downhill. With no brakes.