What the wild things eat.

Like most kids, I imagine, Bug loves it when I read to her. Recently, Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak has been a particular favorite.

Yesterday, she climbed up on to my lap with her well-loved copy and we snuggled in for story time.

"I'm afraid of the monster, " she said, playfully. "He's going to eat the dog! I'm going to cover my eyes so I don't see the monster eating the puppy!"

I thought about those Wild Things and all the roaring of terrible roars and gnashing of terrible teeth they do, and not once could I think of a time they threaten to gobble up a canine.

It didn't take me long to figure it out, though. It wasn't a Wild Thing at all.

Page two:

Yes, she is wearing her Christmas jammies. We looked long and hard for those; she's getting use out of them, by golly!

Fear is in the eye of the beholder, I guess. Pesky Max and all his mischief.