Grinch

On Monday night we watched "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" with the kids before bed.

That night, before I went to bed, I went in to check on Mallory. And for the first time in a long time, she was asleep on the floor in front of her bedroom door.

By the time I finally got her shoved out of the way and the door open, she was half awake, and she staggered to her feet and asked, "Is he coming?"

"Who?"

"The mean guy."

"What mean guy?"

"Is the mean guy coming to take our tree?"

"You mean the Grinch?"

"Yeah."

"No, Mal-Mal, the Grinch isn't coming to our house, I promise."

Who knew good old-fashioned Christmas movies would spawn nightmares?

(She asked to watch The Grinch again on Tuesday. I don't really think it bothers her all that much.)