Some time ago, Sam decided that there was a scary bear in his room when we laid down to sleep. (I have no idea where this came from, but am discovering that that doesn't really matter... ) We scooped him up, deposited him outside, and bedtime continued as usual. The one scary bear has somehow transformed into a big enough multitude that part of the bedtime ritual has become The Listing of The Scary Guys. Tonight's crowd was:
- two scary bears
- two scary guys
- two tiny little scary guys
- one big giant scary guy
(Missing tonight were two scary foxes, two owls -- sometimes scary, sometimes not -- and some number of scary wolves, ranging from one to six. Oh, and the occasional cat.)
We've moved through a number of methods for evicting the spooky posse, including things like throwing them out the window, sending them to Miss Nancy's house for juice, scaring them away, or giving them a kiss and hug and letting me take them out with me. Tonight, though, we tried something new.
We ate them.
Because that way, they don't come back.
Fingers crossed for tomorrow night. I'm not really hopeful, but I am a little bit hopeful...
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