Number three woke me up early this morning to tell me he had a bad dream.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"I had a bad dream."
"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. Tell me what happened."
"Well, there was a bad knight and you told me to run away and he chopped off your head and started chasing me."
[Ouch!]
"I'm sorry, pal! Why don't you try to think about something happy and see if you can get back to sleep."
That's all it took because I didn't hear from him again, but it got me thinking. As young as he is, he looks to me as his ultimate protector. Nobody is stronger than dad. When he sees someone chop off my head and start chasing him down, he knows he's in trouble! Imagine the panic he must have felt in his dream. Poor guy.
He'll find out one day just how weak his dad really is, but for now, I'll offer him a false sense of security. And I'll try not to get my head chopped off anymore.
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