Thought Catalog
April 21, 2016

I Should Have Believed My Daughter When She Told Me About The Thing Living Under The Bed

Report This Article
What is the issue?

When my daughter was 5, she really liked to play with blocks.

You know the ones, they have colorful letters and numbers printed on the sides. My daughter started reading at a young age, and she could already spell a lot of words by the time she hit kindergarten. She loved spelling, and she’d play with those blocks for hours. She’d often try random combinations of letters and ask me what they meant. On those occasions that she’d stumble on a real word, she’d clap her hands with delight and giggle.

She was a very sweet child.

One day, I noticed that her collection of blocks had shrunk considerably.“Where did your blocks go, Kiki?” I asked.

“I gave some to my friend,” she said, setting her remaining blocks up into a tower to imprison a hapless Polly Pocket.

I was both proud and exasperated by her answer. Kiki was so generous, she was forever giving her toys away to other children. I was often tasked with tracking them down when she decided she wanted them back.

“And what friend did you give them to?”

“The Wordeater,” she said.