"Mommy, look, read this. It tells you all about my little monster inside," he says while Amy is dressing for work this morning.
She takes the envelope and flips the blank note over and back with a puzzled look on her face.
"There's nothing on here, Bubba."
"Yes, yes, there is. It's right there. It tells you all about MoMo, my little monster."
And she looks up at me and back at him, and then points to a random place on the page. "Here?"
"Oh, I see what's happening," he says. "You just can't see it, Mommy, because you're a grown up. Only children can see it. It tells me right here all about how he's a good little monster for now -- you know, because he's still small -- but then," he slides his finger along the blank page as though he's reading to her, "it says he's going to grow up to be a big monster soon."
"Mm..." she says. "So, are you just pretending to read this or is this something you can actually see?"
"Oh, no, I can really see it. It's non-fiction," and off he goes back downstairs to retell the story to his sister.
"Should we be concerned?" we wonder.
And then over the kids' monitor we hear him telling her, "And he tells me what to do, Saia. But don't worry, I won't let him harm you."
That was the Twilight Zone, by the way.