Please Don’t Kill Me in My Sleep

A month or so ago my four year old son-who was three at the time-asked when he was going to be old enough to play with knives. We were eating dinner and my husband and I were using knives to cut steak, so I was hoping (praying!) that he was just really eager to cut his food. A few weeks later, while once again at the dinner table, my son said to me, “Mommy, there are things we don’t say, like shut up, coobley coo, and I’m going to knife you.” I’M GOING TO KNIFE YOU. Where does a four year old learn that?! We don’t belong to an outlaw biker gang, a traveling circus, or a pumpkin carving team. I am now slightly scared of my son and worried that he may kill us in our sleep. Here are my reasons why:

1. He keeps talking about knives! There’s no need to explain this any further. 2. He watched his father shoot a rabbit with a pellet gun, and now his stuffed animals conveniently have bullseyes painted on them. 3. He wakes up every night and crawls into bed with us…just a quick detour into the kitchen and it’s curtains for my husband and me. 4. Strategically placed elbow drops performed under the guise of hugging or climbing onto my lap are causing concern that he knows where major organs are and is trying to jumpstart organ failure. 5. His obsession with death. He keeps asking what happens when we die, if we die when we’re old or young, and where my life insurance policy is located.

Serial killers have been determined to have odd, unusual, or inappropriate relationships with their mothers. Therefore, tomorrow will be the last time we get his and hers bikini waxes. Mama wants to live.


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