Imagination

First it was the scrap-afghan ghost.

Then it was the rainbow-socks ghost, hiding in the scrap afghan.

Somewhere in there it became the castle ghost, still draped in scrap afghan.

"Mommy, Dora's castle is a ghost! Whoo-hoo! Whoo-hoo!" Afghan disappears behind Elizabeth's back, tower falls over, Dora skids across the floor. "The ghost made Dora's Castle fall down, Mommy!" Back goes the scrap afghan over tousled blond hair. "I a ghost, Mommy! Boo!"

Then she went back to building another castle.