I can see how a few centuries ago, it was common belief that fairies and spirits came out in the dark. Little Pucks, Peaseblossoms and Mustard Seeds flitting about, one moment blessing beds, the next causing mischief.
In our household at least, the crazies always seem to happen after sunset. If it’s not the full moon ritual of jumping on the beds, it’s sleepwalking or pretending to be ghosts by putting a duvet over one’s head and walking around.
Vivian’s obsession one past evening was with robbers. I suppose she was bound to become preoccupied with robbery after watching hours of Bugs Bunny, with William wielding the remote. Maybe it was the Shut Up Shuttin Up episode; maybe it was Mugsy and Bugsy. Regardless, she thinks we might be robbed.
It’s not her safety that she’s concerned about; it’s not a stranger coming in. It’s the fear that someone might take one of her precious crafts, in particular, her super-duper painted, sparkly magic wand.
Upon hearing her concern, I was the sensitive, understanding mother. Or not. Instead, I said this:
Vivian countered, “Yes they will.”
I wish I could say that I cradled her and listened to her fears.
Nope. I employed logic.
“Why,” I said, “do you think a robber would take your wand?”
“Because it’s pretty.”
“Yes. And because it’s magic.”
I bantered back and forth a few more times, gradually being defeated.
Finally, I succumbed. The final score = Imagination 5, Logic 1.
As it should be.