Back Soon: The Toddler Has Left the Building

Back SoonThe Toddler has left the building. Actually, she hasn’t. The door is locked. But she has announced her intention to leave, said her goodbyes, packed a bag. Or, at least, picked up a toy kettle and a wooden triangle. Or put an envelope on her head as a hat. That happened.

Before The Toddler could speak, she would just amble off towards the door. When she got her first bag, she took up ambling towards the door with random items stuffed in her bag. Once she started speaking, she would cheerfully call, ‘Bye!’ She now says ‘see you later’ or ‘back soon’. Pretty much whenever she moves, in fact. Or anyone else moves. Fetching toys from half a metre away, Silly Mummy going to change The Baby’s nappy, and going to bed are all appropriate ‘back soon’/’see you later’ situations, as far as The Toddler is concerned.

If The Toddler feels one of her trips is particularly deserving of recognition, she likes to narrate it. She is setting out on an epic journey from her bedroom to halfway down the landing. Each step of this momentous trek must be charted. The Toddler heads out of the door. ‘Walking. Back soon…’ There is a pause. ‘Sorry, Bink! Geta Bink.’ The Toddler edges back into the room. She subtly grabs teddy Binker and sidles casually back out onto the landing, confident no one noticed her oversight. ‘Walking. Bye, Mummy. Back soon.’

The Toddler’s commitment to ensuring everyone is kept fully abreast of her travel plans does not stop at information about her departure and expected time of return. Oh no. The Toddler will also announce the return. It often occurs immediately after the departure: ‘Bye. Back again.’

As for the contents of The Toddler’s bag? Typical items packed for her trips include the coasters from the coffee table, a ball, a turtle, wooden shapes, a plastic cabbage. On one notable occasion, The Toddler marched to the door wearing only a nappy & carrying an entirely empty bag. The Toddler reappeared. She had forgotten something. She was not properly prepared for the trip. ‘Mummy, need shoes!’ Ah, shoes! Yes, that was what was missing.

The Toddler has become aware of late that unlocking the door is a process involved in people leaving the house. She therefore now typically asks Silly Mummy to give her the keys or unlock the door. ‘Time to go now. Bye bye, Mummy. Unlock door, please, Mummy.’ A blunt ‘no’ in response to this request was met with, ‘Oh, alright.’ But then Silly Mummy felt a bit bad. So Silly Mummy created a magic, invisible key (kept on the shelf with the imaginary jam) for such occasions.

The magic, invisible key was a great idea. Then it escalated. It could now be described as a little out of control. It is just before bedtime. The Toddler, in her pyjamas, fancies a stroll. She heads for the door. ‘Bye now. Going walk. Shoes on. Going now. Keys, please, Mummy. Want keys.’ Silly Mummy fetches and hands over the magic, invisible key (Silly Mummy is becoming an excellent mime artist).

The Toddler is still indoors (she has yet to notice the magic, invisible key is not so good with actually opening the door). It is sunny outside. However: ‘Raining. Oh dear me. Bit of rain. Bit of rain, Mummy. Need jacket. Jacket, please.’ Would you look at that: Silly Mummy happens to have a magic, invisible raincoat right here! Silly Mummy helps The Toddler into the magic, invisible coat, and zips it up (really).

The Toddler is now fully prepared for this trip. Right? Wrong. ‘Harness, please. Need harness.’ One minute later, and The Toddler is wearing a magic, invisible harness over her magic, invisible raincoat. She is holding the magic, invisible rein of her own magic, invisible harness, since no one else is going on the imaginary walk. (No, The Toddler did not consider the rein issue herself. Yes, Silly Mummy did get carried away with the mime act). The Toddler must be ready, surely?

‘Going. Need tea cup.’ Tea cup? A tea cup is needed for the walk? Apparently so. One magic, invisible tea cup coming up. The Toddler is definitely ready this time. She takes a step. ‘Need hat on. Get The Toddler’s hat, please, Mummy.’ Silly Mummy – who I think we can all agree is remarkably well stocked with completely imaginary items – supplies a magic, invisible hat, and The Toddler is off.

Nearly. ‘Doing walking. Need shoes on.’ Really? Silly Mummy is sure The Toddler said she had her shoes on at the start of this expedition. Apparently, one can never be wearing too many pairs of imaginary shoes. Inexplicably, Silly Mummy’s magic, invisible shoes are buckle-up. Must get some magic, invisible Velcro shoes: much quicker.

‘Bye, Mummy. Door, please. Going now, Mummy. Get bag, please.’ Well, in fairness, what else is she going to keep all her magic, invisible items in except a magic, invisible bag?

The Toddler finally makes it to the door. In keeping with the entirely imaginary nature of the trip and her attire, The Toddler is sticking with her imaginary weather: ‘Jacket on, bit cold. Raining.’ The Toddler decides this imaginary weather is not for her. She’s a fair weather imaginary walker. She’ll just pop off to bed instead. (Without so much as removing a magic, invisible shoe, Silly Mummy might add. The bed will be full of magic, invisible dirt.) ‘Night night, Mummy. Back soon!’ Yes, in 12 hours.

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MamavsteacherModern Dad PagesLet's Talk MommySuper Busy MumMamaduckquacksOur Little Escapades


  1. Danie says:

    Reminds me of a picture/story, my mother goes on about. In the photo, I stand at the doors with packed bag, teddy under my arm, sun-dress, over-sized hat and gloves. I ran away in style lol. Thanks for the read!! Found you through #wineandboobs linkup

    • Silly Mummy says:

      Thanks for popping by! Sounds like you were properly organised for your excursions – can’t think of anything else you would have needed!

  2. Jen says:

    Love it! Their imaginary worlds are so much more interesting than our so-called real ones I’m often tempted to join! Thanks for posting on #wineandboobs!

  3. This is great, I love your posts! Just think how independent she is going to be as she gets older and how much free time you will get when she has such a huge imagination like that! I was similar as a child, I would spend hours upon hours outside making up my own little worlds and I loved it 🙂

    • Silly Mummy says:

      Thank you! Yes, I was like that too as a child. I’ll have masses of free time if she’s off putting The Baby in imaginary clothing – that’s both of them occupied! Thanks for reading!

  4. This is so lovely, what a little imagination. Zach talks us through everything he does, in fact he doesn’t really stop talking or asking questions which I love. They have such wonderful little minds don’t they?! Thanks so much for linking up with #TwinklyTuesday

    • Silly Mummy says:

      They do have wonderful little minds. I love the constant chattering too. I really love when we can hear her on the monitor in bed rattling through random things she wants to tell herself! thanks for hosting #TwinklyTuesday

  5. Adrian says:

    This is so sweet! Our boy is almost there – 15 months – and I can’t wait for this kind of nonsense. For now he just gets in his buggy and points at the door. So he knows what’s going on! I love all the getting extra objects – knowing she needs a harness is very clever. I sense Danger Boy will never think he needs a harness. Tantrum alert!

    • Silly Mummy says:

      Aww – he’ll be talking continuous nonsense in no time! The weird thing about the harness request is that we actually very rarely put her in one – I’m now wondering if she WANTS to wear a harness at all times! Haha – well I imagine a harness would damage Danger Boy’s super hero credentials! Thanks for reading!

  6. Ah this is fab! So funny! The toddler sounds absolutely wonderful.
    I wonder if our little ones are quite close in age, I have recently been considering a career in mime…at his request I’m particularly adept at scooping aeroplanes out of the sky and plucking hammers, ice creams and stones out of the pages of books. Double act? With our combined juggling skills as well we could start a circus troupe… X

    • Silly Mummy says:

      Wow, that is some advanced miming! The great thing is, if we did a double act of mime juggling, we could really up our juggling skills! I mean, I can juggle 4 real balls, but I am confident I could do at least 20 imaginary balls…Of course, we would be performing this act whilst all wearing imaginary harnesses & looking at hoo-has (see, that makes sense if you know the context, but probably sounds a little 50 Shades of Grey to anyone else)! The Toddler is 26 months (& the little one is 11 months, but does not currently demand any mime!)

  7. Emma says:

    What a cute little madam. I miss these days with my daughter, I’m not sure she would be happy with an imaginary hat anymore. Great little story.

    • Silly Mummy says:

      Thank you! Yes, I am wondering if I should be taking full advantage of the happy with imaginary things phase while I can! Could I get away with fully imaginary days, where we sit on the floor & just pretend everything…

  8. Alice says:

    I would LOVE to know where you keep all of these magical, imaginary accessories to life. You must have some kick-ass imaginary, magical storage solutions at your house 😉
    x A

  9. Stacey says:

    I can remember as a child packing my bag and leaving home. Which translated as packing a bag with my favourite toy at the time and sitting on the front door step for about 10 minutes before I realise I was either hungry or cold. #twinklytuesday

    • Silly Mummy says:

      I remember walking round the block a lot when I ‘left home’. I distinctly recall ‘running away’ once with the intention of going to the chinese, before realising it was actually quite a long way and I didn’t have any money. Now I look back, it was a rubbish plan – clearly I intended to return with the food, so not much of a departure! Unless I was specifically protesting a lack of chinese food, it was really very poorly thought out. Thanks for dropping by!

  10. Jenny says:

    I love the imagination and the things that toddlers come up with. They are too funny. Being surrounded by two 24/7 I hear my fair share of the silly stories and going on adventures in their minds. Love it. Thank you so much for linking up to Share With Me #sharewithme

  11. Lana Lou says:

    That’s adorable. My son has just started saying things like, “Mom, I’m going to the park…You wanna come with me?”
    Thank you for the invite son. You better hope I say yes or your plans are null and void.

    • Silly Mummy says:

      That’s brilliant – I love how they think they are in charge (&they probably think the same about us thinking we’re in charge)! Thanks for popping by!

  12. Alison says:

    This was so funny, loved the stockof imaginary items. I should really start collectin some of those — it sounds like they come in handy. #SSAmazingAchievements

  13. Catie says:

    I love reading your posts. What a creative mind your toddler has and a great mummy for encouraging it. Mario has never played imaginatively due to his autism and he finds it really strange when Yoshi & I do. But Yoshi is highly imaginative. I love it! #SSAmazingAchievements

    • Silly Mummy says:

      Thank you! Imagination is lovely but, yes, it must seem so odd to people who don’t think that way. Thanks for popping by!

  14. Lol, great post, thanks for linking up!
    I think some imaginary wellies and an imaginary umbrella are definitely called for as autumn looms.
    D never had much of an imagination due to her autism but did have a carry-everywhere bag full of wonderful little things.
    The one time she decided it was all too much and she was leaving home, she packed her little playmobil people, her bunny and her hairbrush – she HATES having her hair brushed!! No food, no drink but her hairbrush!
    Anyway, thanks for linking up x #SSamazingachievements

    • Silly Mummy says:

      Yes, I will stock up on imaginary umbrellas! That’s brilliant – maybe she was planning to dump the hairbrush and be rid of it forever! I love the random things kids put into (real) bags. If they ever actually did leave, there would be collections of children with very bizarre luggage clogging up train stations. Thanks for hosting!

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