Say a Little Prayer

Despite my numerous warnings about its scary and rather unscientific nature, Carl really wanted to see “Jurassic Park III” because it features his favorite dinosaur — Spinosaurus, a prehistoric predator bigger than T-Rex.

He waited impatiently for the copy I reserved to arrive at the public library next to us.

He watches it halfway from the hallway ready to dart behind the wall when a dinosaur approaches. Afterwards, he decides to sleep with us. I don’t mind. I would be scared, too, to be by myself.

“Are you scared?” I ask when he snags close to me.

“No. The nightmare will come later,” he explains.

“Yes, when you are the most relaxed and vulnerable,” I joke.

His eyes open wider. Nice job, Mom!

I calm him down. “You won’t be alone. I will be here for you. Sleep now.”

“What will you do?” he asks.

“I have this prayer that my grandmother used to say. It helped against nightmares.”

I say it loud. God, did I mess it up? I try again wondering if after twenty some years I might have forgotten the wording and intonation that grandma used.

Carl doesn’t understand a word: “I think it needs to be an American prayer.”

“An American prayer against a Hollywood induced nightmare?” I kid my kid again.

“An Industrial Light and Magic strength prayer,” chimes in my husband from the right.