***
Dinner was usually a casual affair at our house, at least during the week. Soup and sandwiches, TV dinners, grilled meat and frozen vegetables were the typical fare. But every Friday we ate out or ordered in. Tonight was no exception. Ashley had opted to go to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal and an hour in the play area.
I sipped on a Styrofoam cup of hot mocha coffee while I watched her navigate colorful slides, ropes, tunnels…and one serious ball pit. I tried not to cringe, finally having to look away. I hated the things.
Don’t get me wrong, they did look like a lot of fun, even to a grown up like myself. It must have looked like the Taj Mahal of the playground to a little kid like Ashley. But, to me at least, it also looked like a gigantic germ pool, hepatitis and meningitis and tetanus co-mingling in sickening harmony. But it was important to Ashley, so I sighed and packed the hand sanitizer, vowing to keep my phobias to myself. Such is the life of a parent.
After dinner, playtime, and a hot bubble bath, we went through the motions of our bedtime routine.
We read a story, talked about what the coming day would bring, and Ashley settled into her own bed for the night. Whether she would stay there for the duration or if the dreams would plague her sleep always remained to be seen. I honestly didn’t mind; the nightmares were becoming less frequent with each passing month.
I was locking the front door and setting the alarm like I always did each evening when a movement outside caught my eye. I did a double-take, peering out through the living room window to the darkness beyond. Whatever had been out there was gone, I realized after a moment. A faint chill washed over me. It wasn’t the first time it had happened since our return from Terlain. And like the other times, I shrugged it off and went to bed.