I’ve realised that it’s quite difficult to discreetly check under the bed without being noticed doing it. You don’t have many things in your hands to accidentally drop when you’re about to climb into bed. There are no facilitated sneaky peeks. You have to commit. Come face to face with the nothing that is there under your bed.
I try to maintain my composure in front of my toddler. I don’t want to impose my fears on her developing mind and so I work hard to keep my cool. Especially at night.
It’s much easier to check the cupboards discreetly. You can follow on by feigning some kind of absent mindedness. “Oh, ha-har, silly me, I forgot we don’t keep glasses of water in the linen cupboard”.
I’m reminded of the classic Simpsons episode where Marge goes away for the night, only to return to find Homer and the kids in a mattress fortress.
Bedtimes can get tricky.
My little one looks at me with her possum eyes cutting through the night, “what’s that noise, mummy?”. I look back at her and casually say, “oh that, it was just a bird”. But I know that there is too much of the whites of my eyes showing.
It takes all of my strength not to tell her the truth. The scary truth. The honest truth. That it’s probably a boogeyman and/or men.