“I know it’s not real, but I’m still afraid.”
My son said this to me as he jumped into my arms when we were walking through a neighborhood full of shockingly creepy Halloween decorations. There was a robotic werewolf wrestling against the bars of a cage, shrouded in haze and flashing lights.
“That’s okay, my son. I’ve still got you.” It warmed my heart; my son is still small enough for me to carry him even though he’s freshly smart enough to articulate his inner life.
