My pal Poko

This morning, as I battled Adelaide's all-through-the-night diaper, Will walked in and stood by the door, looking quite thoughtful. I glanced over at him with my "yes?" eyebrows, and he sighed.

"Mommy, when is Poko coming back? I miss him."

Who, you may be wondering, is Poko? A stray animal from the neighborhood? A child with an unfortunate and bizzarre name? A Native American spirit Will has be channelling in his spare time? (For those of you who know about Will's escapades, this is a legitimate concern, I suppose.)

Let me introduce you to Poko the way I met him.

Last summer, I was in the last months of my pregnancy with Adelaide. Will was mentally preparing to be a big brother, I suppose, and was looking for something to nurture. He desperately wanted a pet. We tried explaining to him that now was not really optimum pet procurement time, what with the new little sister's imminent arrival. This for some reason was not an acceptable explanation to him. Being the strange little boy that he is, however, he chose to create a superhero-pet named Poko that he would draw pictures of and write stories about. (Why can't he just throw a tantrum like other kids?)

Poko became sort of a fixture around the house. Will talked about him like he was real, and so we played along. We saw no harm in his imaginary super-pet, so this was a productive diversion for all.

Poko pretty much lived in stories and a four-year-old's drawings until one hot day in July. I was heavy with baby and on modified bedrest (modified being that I could get up and do things until my fingers swelled to the size of hot dogs and my face was the color of ketchup) and Will had gone outside to get the paper for me. I watched him from the window, and he returned with the news in tow. A few moments later, however, he began to act strangely. I mean, more strangely than usual.

He was running around the house, laughing, calling after Poko. It was an imaginary game of chase, and Will was having a grand time.

"Look, mommy!" he shouted. "Look at Poko! I can't catch him!"

"Umm hmmm," I answered, scanning the front page of the paper. But Will didn't relent.

"Mommy!" he shouted, breathless from the chase. "Mommy, come look! Poko is up there!" He pointed to the top of the molding above one of our doors. Considering that Poko was a well-known super pet, I didn't think much of his sudden flying ability.

'That's great, Will," I answered, somewhat distracted. "Poko can fly, huh?"

"No," he said, looking a little confused at my apparent ignorance. "No, he walks up the wall." He answered me like this was the most obvious thing in the world and I clearly had something wrong with me that I didn't see that.

A few minutes later, I got up and walked over to where Will was playing with his imaginary pet. I was just about to ask him what he wanted for lunch when I discovered something shocking.

Poko was no imaginary super-pet today. Poko, rather, was a baby Gecko lizard.

I screamed and dropped the newspaper I was holding.
"Poko....Poko's REAL!" I yelled to the child who obviously knew that.

"Um, yeah," he said, confused.

"Poko...is...real...." I refrained from thumb sucking and reverting to the fetal position in that moment mostly because it was incompatible with my present state of pregnancy. I still consider us fortunate that my unexpected introduction to Poko Gecko did not result in premature labor.

I finally managed to get my wits about me enough to concoct a plan involving a plastic food storage container, a piece of cardstock paper, and the front door. Will was very unhappy about this development, but I explained to him that Poko lived right outside our house and that Will could visit him whenever he wanted. While he wasn't completely mollified at this resolution, I added a bowl of ice cream to the deal and it was settled.

I guess that now as the weather is warming and the geckos are beginning to crawl about our front door again, Will got to thinking about his old buddy Poko. We have since adopted a baby turtle named Swimmer who Will does take care of very well. But I suppose that a boy never really lets go of his first pet, even when its a formerly imaginary amphibian that he only bonded with for one fleeting afternoon.