A few nights ago, my four-year-old daughter woke up sobbing from a bad dream. She climbed up in bed with me, which is her norm most nights -- bad dream or not.
She said to me, through heart-wrenching sobs, "Mommy, a ghost was trying to get me. A mean, mean, scary ghost. He was trying to EAT MY TOES."
Yikes, that did sound bad.
She went on, "If that ghost eats my toes, I won't be able to walk."
Hard to argue with that.
"And then the ghost was trying to eat my eyes. And if he eats my eyes, I won't be able to see."
The worries keep piling on.
So, I said to her, "Baby, your mommy is strong and tough. And if some ghost or monster ever did try to come into this house, I would TACKLE him to the ground, wrap him up and take him straight to jail."
She looked up at me, with the tears rolling down her cheeks, and after one great big breath said:
"Ohhhhh, THANKS, Mama."
And all was well.