A childhood belief about imaginary friends

When I was four, I had an imaginary friend. Naturally, it was a purple cow that looked (ironically) like the calf on the milk cartons.

One day, my mother--who was totally unaware of my dealings with THE cow--came and sat down in my room while I was chatting away. I turned around when she said something and was extremely shocked to find that she had sat on my purple cow, and, in effect, had deflated her. You can only imagine how angry I was with my mother.

Things did pan out though. After all, purple cows come back to life, and mine did an hour later.