Exercising Creative Authority

Yesterday I was ironing in the hallway and listening to my children playing in the next room. Those who know me will be questioning the veracity of this post because I began with, "I was ironing". Anyway, the kids were playing "Rescue Heroes". My oldest son has every one ever made and they were all on the kitchen floor. This particular episode of Rescue Heroes was sort of like Barbie meets Rambo. My oldest son (OS) was a fire chief named, "Billy Blazes". My daughter (D) was a dolphin named, "Nemo". My youngest son was, well, no one. This is how the conversation went. (Names have been left out to protect the innocent)
OS: "We've got to get out of here! Everyone get on the boat. There are sharks everywhere!"
D: "I'm not a shark, I'm a dolphin! I won't hurt you."
OS: "C, dolphins can't talk!"
D: "Oh, yes I can. I'm a talking dolphin.
OS: (moving on) "Lookout! There's a bomb in the boat!"
D: "We'll get out, but first...(breaking into song) "Do you want to go to Splashin' Safari, Splashin' Safari, Splashin' Safari)
OS: (obviously frustrated) "C!"
While this is going on, my youngest son is saying, "I want Nemo, I want Nemo, I want Nemo, I want Nemo" over and over and over and....you get it.
This reminded me of my childhood and how bossy I was with my sisters. Every last detail had to be true to life. There was no room for creativity. If you want to be creative, go play elsewhere. I was the child who never wanted a purple teddy bear. Bears weren't purple. They were white, black, or brown. My dolls had to be dressed and their hair combed. None of these ratty little hooligans with messy hair and no clothes. Dolphins certainly didn't talk.

I did enjoy listening to these funny kids. I'm amazed at how different they are. I am glad that God created them to be exactly who they are. I am so glad that God has a plan for all of our lives and that no two look the same. I am glad that my sisters still love me even after my reign as Playroom Dictator.