To my son Tommy,
A while back, your Grandpa Leo babysat you. That night you explained to him how you were having bad dreams about a talking duck. He empowered you with a plastic pirate dress up dagger and suggested, if that duck gives you any more problems, you should make duck soup. You slept with that dagger straight and as far as I knew were still sleeping.
Last night, the talking duck was back in your dreams. You convinced your mom to come in and sleep in your bed. This morning I reminded you that you probably still have that dagger on your headboard. "Oh yeah! That's right!" you said with enthusiasm as you took immediate comfort in the thought that tonight would be different.
When we put you to bed, no dagger was found. So after a quick search to no avail, I convinced you that the plastic pirate dress up cutlass is just a larger dagger with a curve. You are now sleeping with the cutlass by your side ready for any type of nightmarish fowl. You graduated to superior weaponry. The only problem is I am afraid I have started the weapons build up and by the end of the year I will have to buy you a big plastic life sized M1A2 Abrams to sleep in. Oh well, at least tonight you might make it through the night without threat from that darned duck.
Sincerely with love from your dad,