Wombats

I was sitting here at my desk, uploading pictures from the camera and editing titles on a DVD-RW, when I heard a sneeze from the hallway.

A decidedly non-kitty sneeze, and since it wasn't Hubby or me, and the kids were all supposed to be in bed, it got my attention.  But when no small person appeared within the next thirty seconds, I assumed I must have misheard, and it really had been a kitty sneeze.  A doozy of a kitty sneeze.

I went back to my pictures and saved the title information on the DVD...and it was a good thing I didn't move on to the next title, because Medium Fry walked in.

Hubby looked up and noticed her, too.  "Hi, honey.  What are you doing down here?"

"Dewre's somesing scawwy in my wroom."  Medium clambered up next to him on the loveseat and snuggled in.

"Something scary?  What?"

"Monstewrs."

"No, there can't be.  Do you know why?"

Medium shakes her head against Hubby's chest.

"What are monsters scared of?"

"Wittle giwrls."

"What else are monsters scared of?"

"Kuwrtins."

"Right.  Curtains."  Hubby stroked her back.  "Are there little girls in your room?"  Medium must have nodded.  "Are there curtains in your room?"  Another nod.  "Then monsters won't go in there."

Hubby hugged her.  "You need to go back up to your bed.  Can you do that?"

"But dewre awre wombats."

Ahhhhh.  Now we have a villain.

"Can you come up an' get da wombats out?"

"Yes, I can come get the wombats out."

Medium stood up, thumb in her mouth and duckie in hand, and shuffled towards the stairs, Hubby following.

It's always good when you know your daddy will get the wombats out.