When a little imagination can get you killed

I'm all for imagination.  I spent much of my life living there.  Yesterday, Sophie tested the limits of imagination.  I was simultaneously overjoyed and frightened.
#1.  "Mom!  Come watch me do my new pirate trick!"
I came into her room and found a "rope" tied around one of the blades of the ceiling fan.  "See, I'm going to stand on Ally's bed and grab the rope.  Then I'm going to jump and swing over there.  Isn't that cool?" 
"No.  You're not."
"Crying."
#2.  "Mom, can I borrow one of your big laundry baskets?"
Suspicious "Why?"
"For a new trick."
"Just be careful.  And no swinging on fans!"
A few minutes later.
"Mom, come look at my new trick!"
This time, she'd tied her rope to the laundry basket and slung the rope over the banister with the idea that she would jump from the top of the stairs while holding on to the rope and do a nice swing to the bottom of the staircase, with the laundry basket as the anchor.
"No.  You're not doing this."
"Crying."
#3.  "Mom, look at this cool trick! I found this board and I'm going to make it my plank.  Ally's going to hold one end at the top of the stairs and I'm going to jump off the other end."
"Who are you trying to kill?!  Yourself or your mother?  No more tricks!"
"You hate me and all of my ideas!"
Just the ideas, dear.  This  mother will never inspire her children to new heights.