Remember when you were a kid and something would scare you? I mean really, really scare you?
My son was sitting at the dinner table this evening having “dessert.” The deal is that if he eats a good dinner, then he gets dessert — usually a frozen Gogurt stick.
If he doesn’t eat his dinner well, he gets a snack before bed — usually a Gogurt stick. He has yet to figure out that they are the same thing — but apparently freezing something makes it a special treat.
If my kids don’t eat something before bed, they wake up hungry at 2 a.m. And making oatmeal at 2 a.m. is not my idea of fun. Apparently they burn massive calories while they sleep. (They do not get this from me).
Suddenly and spontaneously, my son started screaming at the top of his lungs and pointing outside.
Normally the blinds are closed by 8 p.m., but with it staying light later, I hadn’t gotten to that yet.
In between sobs he tells us that there is a wolf outside looking in our house.
Of course, we know there is no wolf outside. My husband suggests it might have been a dog since our newly adopted dog decided to eat part of the fence and left a hole (really sorry about this to our new neighbors). He insisted that, no it was not a dog, but a wolf.
We opened the window and looked at the rose bush scratching the window. No, that wasn’t it, he insists.
My husband headed out in the bitter wind to look for the wolf.
At this point *I* was starting to get a touch concerned. Maybe something WAS out there?
My husband came in and reassured us all there was nothing out there.
I was a big scaredy cat. Not much brave about me as a kid. My son tries to be so brave, and he talks big about protecting us from bears and rhinos. But he is still a sensitive 4.5 year old with a very active imagination.