Scared Sheetless

Everyone remembers Linus, right?  He was Lucy’s little brother in the Peanuts comic strip; the boy with his right thumb in his mouth and his left hand holding onto a security blanket for dear life.  Time out for a quick comic strip history lesson: In the early days of Peanuts, a friend advised Linus that other children would tease him for having a security blanket.  Linus responded by using his blanket as a whip to forcefully shear off the branch of a tree and said ‘they never tease me more than once.’

That being said, my grandson Krischan reminds me of Linus.  Krischan’s right thumb will occasionally find its way to his mouth, he has his own version of a security blanket—a sheet passed down to him from his mother who used it when she was a child—and I doubt anyone would tease him more than once.  The kid is absolutely fearless, and as far as I can tell he gets his courage from that piece of faded green and yellow cloth approximately the size of a twin-sized bed.  Krischan finds strength from that sheet the way Samson found strength from his hair.   

Beyond it being a source of security and courage, I’ve noticed Krischan uses the sheet for a number of other purposes, such as:

·      A blanket.  Krischan sleeps with his sheet every night and by the time he wakes up the next morning it looks like he’s been swallowed up by a giant cocoon; a giant, faded green and yellow cloth cocoon.    

·      A tent.  Krischan will drape the sheet over three or four chairs and voila: Instant fortress of Solitude.  That clears the path for what every five-year old needs: Lots and lots of ‘me time.’    

·      A cloak of invisibility.  I notice Krischan uses it for this purpose quite often when he doesn’t want to be disturbed—for instance, when he’s watching Scooby-Doo cartoons—or when he’s not ready to take a much-needed bath and decides to disappear.  It works pretty well, at least up until the point he gives himself away by uncontrollably giggling…probably because he’s amazed that he really has become invisible.

·      A shield.  When we’re out in the woods hunting zombies and space aliens armed with only our plastic swords, Krischan will occasionally bring his impenetrable sheet with him.  Just in case.   Up until now the plastic swords have served us well, but there’s always that first time that we’ll need more than our swords and he wants to be ready.         

I’ll be honest: I’ve used the sheet once or twice myself:

·      One time I heard Krischan making the sounds that I distinctly remember from when our two sons were his age: The sounds immediately preceding voracious projectile vomiting.  Instinctively I grabbed his sheet, folded it over three or four times and held it in my hands like a gigantic catcher’s mitt.  Steee-rike!  One flush of the toilet and one wash & dry cycle later and the sheet was good as new.  Well, as new as a twenty-something year old sheet with an inherent musty smell about it can be, I guess. 

·      Another time Krischan got out of the tub and there wasn’t a towel to be found.  I spotted the sheet lying next to his pile of clothes by the side of the tub and wrapped Krischan up inside of it so at least some of the bath water could be absorbed.  It was pretty obvious from all that nasty screaming that he could tell the difference between drying off with a soft, fluffy blanket and a thin, water repellant piece of faded green and yellow cloth. 

I’ve tried my best to separate my grandson and his sheet but have yet to see signs of any real progress.  I’m almost to the point of the ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’ mindset. 

That being said I’m sitting here in front of my keyboard with Krischan’s faded green and yellow sheet draped across my lap.  Maybe the kid has it all figured out: My legs are staying quite warm, I have projectile vomit insurance and I haven’t seen the first sign of any zombies or space aliens.

I sheet you not.