His blue jeans are worn at the knees. His hair is moppy, tousled by the ceaseless activities of a three-year-old boy, resisting the smoothing strokes of maternal hands. His sober face is turned up to me. His deep brown eyes, his father’s gift to him, are wide with concern as he awaits the answer to his question. Bemused, I ask him to repeat.

His voice is urgent.

“Are the monsters that are hiding in the bathroom to get me sleeping?”

Unsure whether to laugh at the ridiculous question or to cry at the awareness that to this small child it is not ridiculous, I kneel beside him and study his large, waiting eyes.

“There is no such thing as monsters,” I quote the phrase that many a parent has used on a sleepless child.

He grows thoughtful, almost hopeful, but repeats the question.

“Mommy, are the monsters waiting in the bathroom for me sleeping or not sleeping?”

I hold his face in my hands.

“Elijah, listen to me. There are no monsters living in our bathroom. Not even one little one.”

Understanding grows and the fear vanishes from his eyes. His face is again bright with the anticipation of unhindered boyhood, his eyes dancing. His little fist shoots into the air as he shouts, “Yes!” in his little man fashion. Off he jumps, fears allayed, interest in potty-training renewed, off to do whatever it is little boys do when they are no longer afraid of walking past a darkened bathroom.

After a brief inquisition, I learn how this fear has taken hold of my previously care-free boy. While weeks earlier I had explained to my children that I do not want them playing a certain monster-in-Mommy’s-closet game, apparently that principle does not apply to creatures of the bathroom variety.

A well-intentioned sister would tell him to stay quiet when the bathroom monsters were sleeping so they wouldn’t wake up and get him. The sibling in question would time the sleeping of the supposed monsters with the sleeping of the actual baby. After all, if a generally exuberant boy is conscientiously quiet enough not to wake the sleeping monsters, he is certainly too quiet to wake the sleeping baby.

To be fair, the offending sister did first attempt to keep the boy quiet with the argument that the baby was asleep.

His response: “I like my baby to be awake. Then I can play with her.”

Thus ends the reign of the bathroom monster, and hopefully three-year-old bathroom accidents.

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