A childhood belief about imaginary friends

When I was 2 or 3 I had an imaginary friend in the form of a small white mouse. He was cleverly named "My white mouse" He talked to me in a whisper, and was always around though he slipped conveniently out of site whenever I had visitors. One day My white mouse wanted to fly a kite, and since he was much too small to fly my kite, he urged me make him one of his very own. So I pulled out my crayons, and drew in red a kite that was just his size on the floorboard of our hallway. Needless to say my parents were not impressed at my budding artistic talent, and forced me to scrub the kite away. I never revealed to my parents that it was My white mouse that urged me to draw the kite in the first place.