Recently as I was watering flowers on the patio, I noticed a little boy, about 8 years old, walking down the sidewalk taking to himself. I have seen children sing to themselves in public without embarrassment. At least one of my nieces loved to sing aloud (and I mean loud) in restrooms when she thought she was alone. But it's unusual to see young children talking to themselves.
Now, I talk to myself frequently, but I'm an old lady. I have even found that I must be cautious that I don't speak to myself in public places. (As an old lady, she also rambles.)
As I watched him walk/run/hop down the sidewalk, I saw that he wasn't talking to himself at all. He would occasionally turn, look up, and speak enthusiastically to someone or something that I couldn't see. I know that his invisible-to-me companion was taller than he, but I would hesitate to assume it was a person. For all I know, it could have been Big Bird or his friend, Aloysius Snuffleupagaus.
My younger brother once came galloping up to me on an imaginary steed and asked me to hold the invisible reins while he ran in the house. I assured him I would be happy to watch his horse and he informed me (with that tone that brothers reserve for stupid sisters) that it wasn't a horse, it was a camel. I have no idea where a kid in southern Indiana found a camel, imaginary or otherwise.
Hmmm, talking to myself isn't so strange after all, now is it?
"Well, I've wrestled with reality for thirty-five years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it." ... Elwood P. Dowd, Harvey, 1950
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