"No robots coming tonight?" he asks quietly, sitting up in bed with the covers pulled up high. It usually occurs at the very end of our bed time routine, as I'm backing out of his room and closing the door.
Every night we have the same ritual. Once he's had his bath, usually from Daddy, he wants me to come get him ready for bed and lay with him for a few minutes. We brush his teeth with the fire engine electric brush (flashing lights and all), put lots of lotion on (he likes to help), and then his Thomas or his Lightning pajamas ("Pee-Jays," as he calls them). We lay down, him under the covers and me on top of them, and then we talk about what we've done that day, how we got the "dirty off" in his bath, and what we're looking forward to doing tomorrow. He's been happy, all smiles and even laughing and being silly. He's always sad when it's time for Mommy to go, but he can usually be convinced to "Give Mommy kiss!" and then tell Mommy "Night-Night." And then, as I'm pulling the door closed, out of no where will come the question.
"No robots coming tonight?"
"No robots," I say reassuringly.
"That's good. No robots," he says, laying back down. "Night-Night, Mommy."
"Night-Night, baby."
We assume that he's talking about our little robot vacuum cleaner, Roomba, but we're not sure. We bought it a few years ago on a whim, thinking it might help us cut down on the considerable amount of dog hair and crumbs that three toddlers leave behind during a typical day of play. It has, as we usually run it downstairs as we're going to bed a couple of times each week. It's a bit loud, and the only thing we can think of is that perhaps he's woken up late at night and heard it, thinking it's out of place in the usual quiet of the night and that's it's just a little bit scary.
It's just funny because he's never really seemed the least bit scared of anything before. Scary monsters in the Pixar movies? Nope. Big dog with a deadly wagging tail? Nope. Strangers? Nope. Robot vacuum. Yes, apparently.
