So, we're sitting in bed this morning, and the kids are having their warm milk while we're talking about how everyone slept and if anyone had any dreams.
"Mama," says Santiago in a very solemn tone, "there was a hand in my bed."
[okay, did you just get chills, too?]
"A hand?" I ask. "What kind of a hand?"
"A big hand that touched me," he continues.
[Yes, oh hell yes, am I totally freaked out by now.]
"Did the hand hurt you?" I ask, trying to remain calm.
"No," he says, "it just touched me and then left."
"WHERE did it touch you, bubba?" I ask cautiously.
"Right here on my arm," he says pointing to his forearm, which I proceed to examine for any signs of alien abduction or demonic possession. Not finding anything at all out of the ordinary, I ask, "Do you know who the hand belonged to?"
"The big clown animal," he says as he returns to his milk.
[Holy sh**!!! Breathe...breathe...]
"Is it mean or nice?" I continue to probe unsteadily as my heart begins to race.
"Mean," he says, furrowing his brow. "It scared me and that's why I came to your bed this morning."
"But you said it went away, didn't you?"
"Yes, when Mommy went into my room and went boogada-boogada, shoo-shoo-shoo [our tried and true method for frightening away all things scary], it went back into the hole."
[the HOLE?!?!? pause...breathe...deep breath...count to three...]
"Oh? And what hole is that, son?" I ask, unsuccessfully feigning nonchalance.
"The hole under the rug," they BOTH say in unison. [NOW are you freaked out!?!?!]
Okay then -- so the exorcism is planned for 7pm this evening -- please feel free to join us -- I'll be the one flipping out in the corner watching my son's head spin around in circles!!!