Magic Blanket

My father is in my mother’s bed. He is sleeping there. He has not been there in a long, long time, but that is my bed now and where I sleep. There are monsters in my room and I can not sleep there. I want to sleep in the big bed where there are no monsters (at least not yet).

“Mommy, can I sleep with you?” I am crying and I don’t want to go back to my bed.
“No, go to bed.” My mother replies.
“There are monsters in my room.” I am still crying and my mother is angry, she is yelling at me. I turn from the big bed and return to the room with the monsters. I feel small and no match for the monsters. My father comes in to my room, bearing magic.
“Do you see this blanket?” and I nod “it is a magic blanket, if you cover yourself completely from head to toe in this blanket the monster can not get you.” And I believed as only a very small child can, and I covered myself. I was completely covered I know I checked many times and I was safe.

When that blanket made its last trip through the washing cycle 20 years later I curled myself up with it and cried for hours knowing that soon for the first time in 20 years I would not be sleeping with my magic blanket.