foxypixiestick:

writing-prompt-s:

You realize you’ve misheard your daughter. There’s actually a mobster under her bed.

“His name is Antonio,” she says. You stare at your child for a second, confused, blinking owlishly at her.
“Antonio?”
“Yeah, Mama! He protects me from the thing that’s in my closet!”
At this point, you’re not sure if it’s her active imagination (which came from yourself, of course) ot if you should call the Ghostbusters.
“Well, thank you, Antonio,” you say hesitantly towards the bed.
There’s a pause before “FUGGEDABOUDIT!” echoes from beneath. The last thing you see before you pass out is your daughter grinning and talking excitedly with whatever just shouted from beneath her bed.