“No!” Madeline’s Barbie pressed to Evelyn’s horse. “Don’t go that way because it’s dangerous!”

“Just pertend,” Evelyn paused, “that I didn’t go that way, but that instead I swimmed under the shark’s house.”

“Oh good,” Madeline played along. “The shark won’t see you if you go that way.”

A few seconds later, Maddy cried, “Daisy, look out! The shark saw you and he’s coming to get you!”

“Maddy,” Evelyn said calmly, “just pertend he didn’t see me and I made it to the castle safely.”

“Okay,” Maddy performed in time. “I’m glad you made it to the castle, Daisy. Close the door so the water doesn’t get in. And now we can have cake!”

“Just pertend,” Evelyn added, “that we had a lot of castle paperwork to do and so we eat our cake and do the paperwork.”

“I don’t want to do paperwork, Evelyn.” This time, Maddy was less agreeable. “Who does paperwork in a castle? That doesn’t even make sense.”

I was thinking, “Yeah, and neither does a horse named Daisy swimming underwater dodging shark houses and looking for aquatic castles.”

And by the way, I spelled “pretend” as Evelyn pronounces it.

Considering this singular aspect of the story, don’t you wish that it was available to us to say, “Just pertend…” in any particular circumstance so that we might reverse its course and change the results? I can think of a few things I might change. I would most certainly “pertend” this and “pertend” that to change the condition of my terrible back.

On a more serious note, a family of six living only a few miles north of us were found dead from carbon monoxide poisoning. I wish I could say, “Just pertend that didn’t happen. Pertend instead that I was able to get to them in time so that they lived and grew old together.”

If I had such power, I’d change these things. And I’d work to make changes to the really big stuff – Hitler, September 11, certain Presidents, and the like. But while I was taking breaks between these event adjustments, I’d probably use it to change the little stuff, too.

“Just pertend that this bottle of Grant’s didn’t smell like watered down malt-flavored additives, but instead offered a fuller plume of something less chemical-like.”

And then I’d try, “Just pertend that when I took a sip, I wasn’t sad, but happy; happy because it wasn’t substituting everything good about Scotch with an alcohol chaw, but gave a sapid abundance of regional and finishing character.”

I’d conclude with motivation, “And then just pertend that the finish wasn’t short and pretty much absent of anything but boozy leftovers. Instead, pertend that it was at least moderately lengthy and teeming with the best of the William Grant & Sons library.”

(Sip.)

“Just pertend…”

(Another sip.)

“Just pertend…”

(One more try.)

“Just pertend…”

Nope. It’s still bad. Just pertend you read this review before purchasing a bottle of your own.