Something in the closet

"There's something in my closet" my son announced to me on the drive home from school.

"Oh yeah?" I responded, distracted as I thought about what to cook for dinner, the birthday card we needed to mail for grandma on the way home, the early morning meeting I still needed to prep for.

"Yes," he replied. "It used to be a nice thing but then it stopped listening to me."

"Hmmm..." I replied, continuing to think about a million other things - we were low on dog food, I needed to book a dentist appointment, the dryer was making funny sounds...

"Mommy!" he said.

"Yes hun?" I replied.

"YOU are not listening to me."

"Sorry sweetheart." I replied.

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"There's something in my closet" my son announced at supper.

"What?" said my husband, briefly glancing up from his iPhone.

"It's a bad something" my son said. "It needs to be punished."

My husband raised his eyebrows at me and I shrugged.

"Well," said my husband. "Can you take care of that yourself or do you need some help?"

"I can do it," said my son, pushing his food around his plate.

*************************************

"There's something in my closet" my son said while we brushed his teeth.

"What have you been eating?" I asked him wrinkling my nose. "Seriously, your breath smells like carrion."

"Carrion" he answered seriously.

"Well, maybe you should eat some more veggies" I said, thinking about the food he had pushed around his plate at dinner, untouched. I would need to buy him some multi-vitamins if this kept up. And I should probably book him a dentist appointment too...

*************************************

"You're not listening to me mommy" said my son as I tucked him under his blanket.

"There is someTHING in my closet."

I sat down on his bed and sighed.

"What is in your closet sweetpea?" I asked him.

"Nevermind" he grumbled, rolling towards the wall.

I stood up and walked towards his door but as my hand hovered over his light switch, I looked back at the small lump that was my son, lying under the covers with his back to me.

I turned around, walked to his closet and opened the door.

There, curled up as small as possible in the back corner of the closet sat my son, face pale and drawn, hugging his knees.

"There's something in my bed..." he whispered....