Tommy was a dreamer, a 9-year-old boy whose vivid imagination often swept him away to fantastic realms filled with adventure, excitement, and talking animals. Which was great fun – except when it got him in trouble, which was pretty much every day.

“Tommy! Stop daydreaming and finish your homework!” his mother would scold, hands on her hips as she stared down at the blank worksheets scattered across his desk. Tommy would startle, broken from his reverie with a sheepish grin.

“Sorry Mom, I was just thinking about…”

“I don’t want to hear it, mister. You march yourself right back upstairs and don’t come down until every last math problem is done. Capiche?”

“Yes Mom,” Tommy sighed, trudging back to his room. Stupid math. Who needed multiplication anyway when you could be sword-fighting dragons or exploring uncharted planets in your mind?

But it wasn’t just homework that suffered on account of Tommy’s overactive imagination. Chores, sports practice, instrument lessons – anytime focus and discipline were required, Tommy’s mind rebelled, desperate to escape the mundane and return to daydreams.

His parents fretted constantly over his lack of motivation. His older sister Janie rolled her eyes, declaring him utterly hopeless. His teachers sent home concerned notes about his distractibility in class. Everyone seemed to agree – Tommy’s daydreaming was a problem.

Tommy knew they were probably right, but he couldn’t help it. Reality just seemed so boring in comparison to the limitless worlds he could envision. Why concentrate on vacuuming or vocabulary when you could be commanding a starship or ruling your own kingdom? It was a no-brainer.

Until one fateful Tuesday, that is. Tommy was walking home from school, his mind a million miles away as usual, when disaster struck. Lost in an imaginary world, he failed to notice an uneven crack in the sidewalk. His foot caught, sending him sprawling face-first onto the unforgiving concrete with a painful thwack.

“Ow ow OW!” Tommy wailed, sitting up gingerly to assess the damage. His palms were scraped raw, blood oozing from the cuts. His knee throbbed where it had banged against the ground. But worst of all was his nose – it felt like it was on fire, the pain searing. When he reached up a tentative hand, it came away bloody.

“Oh no oh no oh no!” Tommy whimpered. This was bad. This was really bad. He needed help, fast. But he was still several blocks away from home and there was no one else around. Fighting back tears, Tommy hauled himself to his feet, trying to ignore the various hurts screaming for his attention. He had to make it back.

One agonizing step at a time, Tommy limped his way down the sidewalk, leaving a trail of blood droplets in his wake. His mind, for once, was completely anchored in the miserable present, all flights of fancy forgotten. After what felt like an eternity, his house finally came into view. He hobbled up the front steps and burst through the door.

“Mom! Dad! Help!” he croaked.

There was a clatter from the kitchen and his mom came rushing out, his dad close behind. Their eyes widened in shock at the sight of him.

“Tommy! Oh my God, what happened?!” his mom cried, rushing forward to scoop him into her arms.

“I fell,” Tommy blubbered, the tears he’d been holding back finally spilling over. “I wasn’t paying attention and I tripped on the sidewalk.”

His parents huddled around him, examining his injuries with concerned clucks. They cleaned him up, bandaged his wounds, and made him lie down with an ice pack. Tommy submitted to their ministrations, physically and emotionally exhausted.

Later, after the worst was over, his dad sat on the edge of his bed with a serious expression.

“Tommy, we need to talk about this daydreaming of yours. I know you enjoy your imagination, but you’re letting it interfere with reality to a dangerous degree. You could have really hurt yourself today.”

“I know,” Tommy mumbled ashamedly. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to be more aware,” his dad said gently. “There’s a time and place for daydreams, but not when you’re walking down the street or doing things that require your full attention. You need to learn to control it.”

Tommy nodded solemnly. As much as he loved his inner world, he knew his dad was right. He couldn’t let it take over his life. From now on, he vowed, he would practice keeping at least one foot planted firmly in the real world, no matter how tempting a daydream might be.

Because while visiting imaginary realms was a wonderful thing, you still needed to watch where you were walking. Otherwise, you might just find your adventures becoming a bit too real – and painful – for comfort. And that was one lesson Tommy had definitely learned the hard way!

Feature Photo by Kindel Media