I've always been a story teller. Reminiscing about the past and history of things long ago has always been a favorite thing for me to do. Unless I'm engaged in something else that has priority.

Getting things ready to go fishing, hunting or trying to get the tools for this kind of pleasure cleaned and ready for the next adventure are a few of them.

Every Friday night my wife had some ladies over for games, cards or whatever. I can't remember offhand, but it was a night that I was trying to get things in the truck for an early start the next day. The friends had little kids and they needed to go to bed and sleep while their moms stayed up late playing and visiting. A wild and noisy game of some sort was going on between them and I was asked to take the little ones to a bedroom and tell them stories until they went to sleep.

"Nope! I'm busy, can't you see that?" I said.

Evil glares upon me. Eight squinted eyes locked onto me and pursed lips below them.

"OK, OK, I'll do it." Relenting.

Thinking that this thing could get out of hand in the future, I plotted.

Past stories told to me by uncles and my dad when I was small filtered through my mind as well as the anger of my mom when I became terrified thinking about the child eating things that lurked in closets, under beds and in the bushes around the house at night. I remembered some even hid behind the commode or the clothes hamper in the bathroom.

All pajama clad, smiling and happy they jumped on the bed rolling around awaiting the stories.

I  turned out the light, but left the door cracked so there'd be a dim light in the room so their eyes could adjust and they could see shadows as well as the imaginary things we were going to envision. They  were so excited and happy.

"Have you ever heard of the Rack Monster?" I asked.

"NOOOOO, what's a rack?" All eyes round and looking at me.

"Why a rack is a bed, that's what the military calls them."

"What do they do?" They whispered anxiously.

"They catch and eat the army guys when they go to sleep, that's why the army is always needing more guys. Sometimes when  you are close LIKE WE ARE to a base the RACK MONSTERS go into neighborhoods to get smaller more tender kids."

"OOOOOOOOOOOH!" They huddle around me.

"And then there are the Closet Monsters." All eyes are on the closet and they're huddled tightly against me.

"Do you know what happened to Mary's little lamb?"

"NOOOOOOOOOO! What?" As they gathered the blanket around themselves.

"It went to eat some carrots in the garden and the Tomato Patch monster got him." I said with a scared quiver in my voice.

Under the covers they all went.

"Hey come out from under the covers, I want to tell you about the TOILET MONSTER that hides behind the toilet at night."

"Whimper, whimper, sob." Was their answer.

"HEY! I saw something move outside the window! I'm getting out of here. Stay under the covers so it doesn't see you!"

I get up and go out the door closing it behind me. Smiling I go back to getting my things in order.

In a few minutes, "YOWWWW! WAHHHH! they were all screaming, bursting out of the bedroom, running to their moms, clutching their legs and getting under the table shaking and crying.

"What's the matter?" The moms screamed at the terrified kids..

Nothing but crying and stammering would come from their lips.

I continued with getting my things together. The moms were holding them trying to get an answer. Finally,,,,,,rrrrack, tttttoilet was uttered through tears and shaking.

I could feel the heat from the glare of my wife??™s eyes on me. She knew what I had done.

Anyway, I never had to tell stories to the kids again. I've often wondered how long it took to re-potty train those kids because of the Toilet Monster.

Mark Crider
Existential philosopher,
raconteur, and dean of dirty words.