The other day Brooke was lying down on her floor while I was getting her shoes and socks on.Â She pointed under Caroline’s crib and, with wide eyes and fearful grimace, said, “Monster!”
“Monster?” I repeated.
“A monster!Â Right there!”Â she exclaimed.
So now, every once in a while when we least expect it, Brooke spies a monster.Â I don’t really think she’s scared; I think it’s just a game, but it has caused me to wonder.
Consider this.Â Every night before I go to bed, I check on her.Â I make sure she’s actually in her bed (in a position conducive to sleeping), with her covers on, and I kiss her cheek.Â Sometimes she’ll stir and look up at me with bleary eyes and a confused expression.
I’ve realized that all she is seeing is a large mass in her room, disturbing her sleep, shifting her around, and putting something wet on her face.
What if the monster in her room . . . is really . . .