Dear Kim,

My 3 year old daughter has an imaginary friend named Macy Jo. It wouldn’t bother me, but recently she’s been blaming Macy Jo for things that she’s done. And on top of that, she throws tantrums when I put her in time out and not Macy Jo. She says Macy Jo doesn’t like me. What should I do?

Please help!

Ima in Imaginary Hell

 

 

Dear Ima,

Look Ima, I’m no child psychologist, and what I advise might create some trauma that might require therapy when she’s older, but here it is anyway: break that friendship up! However, before you do, make sure that Macy Jo is really an imaginary friend and not a ghost. No, really- because if she’s a ghost and you start talking smack about her…well shit might get all Amityville up in there and I won’t be coming to dinner.

All I’m saying is, don’t assume that she’s making this person up without some sort of investigation. Ima, let me tell you a story about what can happen when you take things at face value (spoiler: I save the day)…

I used to work with this really nice guy named Larry. Poor Larry was going through a real rough patch. He came home one day to find that his wife Gladys had packed up all the TV’s, her Precious Moments figurines, their poodle Sassy, and ran away to Clearwater, Florida with their dry cleaner Bernie. How did he know where she went? Well, she was kind enough to leave him a note written on the back of a “10% off your Dry Cleaning” coupon. While thoughtful, the discount was of little consolation to Larry.

With no wife, no dog, no TV, the house was very lonely and quiet. Not long after his wife left him, Larry confided in me that he was hearing voices, but only when he was home alone. I asked him what they were saying to him, but he said that they seemed to be talking only to one another, mostly arguing and bickering. Understanding the trauma he’d been through, I suggested that he talk to someone, a therapist. And so Larry saw a doctor by the name of Wong, Dr. Wut Wong.

Dr. Wong tried everything, from stress reduction techniques to medications, but Larry still heard the voices when he was home. Finally, the doctor suggested that Larry check himself into a mental institution for a month and work on his “issues” through a combination of drug, individual, group, equestrian, and macaroni art therapy. Desperate, Larry agreed.

The morning he was to be admitted, he woke up and heard the voices. After his shower, he heard the voices. As he packed his suitcase, he heard the voices.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”, he screamed.

Then he went into the basement to turn down the water heater, and he heard the voices again…only this time they were louder. And in the dark basement, across the room, he saw what appeared to be a glowing red eye staring back at him! He frantically reached for the light switch, flipped it on…and saw Gladys’…………old clock radio tuned to WNPR Talk.

“DAMN YOU, GLADYS!!! GOD DAMN YOU!!!”

So, how did I save the day? I’m the one who told Larry to turn his water heater down before leaving the house, that’s just homeowner’s 101 right there. Yes, you could argue that I’m also the one who told him to see the therapist, but whatever- it all worked out.

Ima, it boils down to this, I need you to make sure Macy Jo isn’t a ghost, or a radio, before I waste my time in giving you some bad advice. I’m not having that happen twice!

 

I’ll be waiting to hear from you,

Kim

 

P.S. I don’t perform exorcisms.