I was going to put this in The Darndest Things list, but I decided it deserves its own post. You see, there is a dragon living in our house. Just ask the children, and they will tell you all about it. We’re not sure how he got here, or when he will be leaving. We were hoping he would melt when our air conditioner went out, but somehow he managed to survive.
I’m not sure exactly when he arrived, but I do remember the children screaming and running away from something, all the while yelling, “It’s gonna get me!” After a day or two of this, I thought I would investigate. It turns out, this particular dragon, rather than living in a cave full of treasure, has chosen our house in general, the big gap between A.’s headboard and the wall in particular, as his new residence.
It was E. who
invented discovered this dragon. The children have alternated between calling it wicked names, yelling at it, running from it, and feeding it toys.
More recently, an aligator also moved into position under E.’s bunkbeds, but I digress.
Last night, A. was a bit upset over the idea of sleeping right next to that dragon again. Perhaps, after many days, the dragon breath is getting to her. Si tried to comfort her by telling her the dragon wasn’t real. Since this did not help, I, Mom the Great, stepped in to extend feminine sympathy.
“It’s gonna git me!” she whispers with wide eyes.
“No. It won’t get you,” I say.
“Why?” she asks, because she is two.
“Because it doesn’t like the taste of girls,” I say, patting her hand.
“Why?” she asks again, and I know this could go on indefinitely because she is two.
“I don’t know. It just thinks boys taste a lot better.”
Silence on her part, so I added, “It’ll eat E. instead.”
“Okay. G’nite, Mama.”
And she was fine.
Si assures me this will cause a fight in the near future.
Get the (almost) weekly digest!
Weekly encouragement, direct to your inbox, (almost) every Saturday.