Sometimes during naptime, if a few of my friends wake up absurdly early, and refuse to fall back asleep, I like to huddle with them in a corner of the room and sit and read books or whisper together and pretend to steal their noses.
Today, amid some dastardly nose stealing, an almost two-and-a-half year old revealed that he had been bitten by a vampire. I tried not to giggle and started to say, “But vampires are just pretend” (don’t tell the hundreds of thousands of teenage girls), but he thrust his hand in my face and showed me a freckle, as proof.
And I tried my best to speak truth gently into his little life. “Vampires only exist in stories, they’re not real, they can’t hurt you.” But his friends crowded around excitedly and my voice of reason was drowned out in the babbling. Then he stood and called for silence to set the story straight.
Vampires aren’t bad anymore, because they were put in time-out, and now they’re happy.
In case anyone asks.
In other news, another of my students seems to have developed a pathological fear of Christmas.
Carols, snowflakes, Santa, and especially Elf on the Shelf send him straight under the table, where he hyperventilates. For my whole life I have felt exactly the opposite way about Christmas, maybe not excepting the hyperventilating. And I studied English, not child psychology. So I can’t relate. Advice, anyone?