The Cereal Killer

“He stomped on his Fruit Loops and became a cereal killer.”

Paige turned from the sink to look quizzically at her 4-year-old son, Nathen.  “What did you just say,” she asked him.

He looks startled that she heard his muttering and furrows his brow slightly. “Kiki was telling a story about a cereal monster. He stomped on his Fruit Loops!”

Nathen looks so excited to be sharing this piece of knowledge with his mother. Paige turns the water off and sits at the table, pulling Nathen in his booster seat closer. She knew her oldest daughter, Kendra, or Kiki as Nathen called her, was on a true crime kick and had just finished listening to a podcast on a serial killer from Georgia. She and her friends would recount the various podcasts and articles and tv shows they watched all the time, often sparing no detail, regardless of who was listening. In this case, it was her toddler brother. 

“I love your imagination,” Paige said, giving Nathen a peck on his cheek. “Why do you think a person would want to stomp all over their Fruit Loops?”

Nathen’s face immediately showed he was carefully considering her question. After a moment he proudly exclaimed, “because he’s an evil villain who doesn’t like fruity things!” 

Paige smiles and rustles her son’s hair. “Well, it sounds like we need a superhero to stop that super villain!”

Before she even finishes her sentence, Nathen moves on to crashing two of his superhero action figures together in what she’s sure is an epic fight scene occurring in his young head. Internally, she hopes he never loses this creative spark he seems to have been gifted with.

She leaves the kitchen to find Kendra in the living room, snuggled under a blanket with her phone mere inches from her face. “Kendra,” she says, sitting on the couch next to her. “You know I love how interested you are in true crime, but you have to be more careful to make sure your brother isn’t listening when you and friends talk about serial killers. You know how active his imagination is, and he’s making up stories about people killing fruit loops now.”

Her daughter looks up from her phone briefly enough to roll her eyes at her mother. “Yeah, because he totally understands what serial killers are. You just said yourself, he thinks I was talking about breakfast cereal.”

Feeling the tension rise between her and her teenage daughter, Paige rises from the couch. “Young minds are very impressionable. I’m asking you to cool it while he’s around, end of story.” She leaves her daughter on the couch without another word.

The next day she’s finishing up some chores when she sees Nathen sitting on the floor in the hallway outside Kendra’s room. The door is slightly ajar, and she hears Kendra’s voice describing her recent true crime discoveries in great detail to a friend over Facetime. Paige marches up to Nathen and pulls him by the hand to standing. “Why don’t you go play in the den, instead,” she suggests kindly.

Nathen looks up at his mother dejected and cries out, “But I want to know what happens in the story!”  This is enough to infuriate Paige, which Nathen senses and scurries out of the hallway. Paige pushes open Kendra’s door and marches inside. The teen looks up at her annoyed and quickly hangs up the Facetime.

“I told you yesterday to be careful that Nathen isn’t around when you tell these stories. He’s four years old, he doesn’t need to know how these stories end!”

Kendra utilizes her favored weapon in the arsenal:  a large, dramatic eye roll. “Mom, it’s fine. That wasn’t even a gory one. And why was he lurking outside my room anyway?”

“Kendra, this is the last time I’m telling you to watch it. Next time I hear you talking about this stuff around Nathen, I’m taking your phone for a month!” This statement cues another eye roll and a muttered “whatever”. Paige chooses not to engage further and closes the bedroom door behind her.

Later that night once Nathen is in bed, Paige decides to unwind by the fireplace with a glass of wine. She reflects on the events of earlier; she’s trying to protect Nathen’s innocence and shield him from the harsh realities of the world. He’s only four, after all! But she acquiesces that she was a bit hard on Kendra too. It wasn’t her fault he was sitting outside her door.  There must be a compromise of some sort that will allow Kendra to keep up with her true crime interests while also protecting Nathen from hearing about man-made evil. She isn’t wrong to want to protect her son, especially with his active imagination.

She dislikes being at odds with her daughter about this. They have a good relationship overall, but this conflict keeps rearing its ugly head. She settles back in her chair to consider her options. She’s already banned true crime in the common areas of the house and car; but she can’t forbid Kendra from listening to true crime altogether. She also can’t completely prevent Nathen from wandering into situations where Kendra might be discussing it. She wishes she could keep Nathen focused on his books and TV shows where normal people don’t get hurt and heroes save the day.  

Then the solution hits her. She rises from the couch and goes off to find Kendra, knocking gently on her door before entering.

“Hey. I was thinking about our talk earlier. You couldn’t have known Nathen was listening in.” Paige sits on the bed next to Kendra and touches her daughter’s knee. “The bottom line is that Nathen is too little to hear about what real people hurting other people. Four-year-olds don’t need to be burdened with that kind of knowledge. But I was thinking, maybe we can figure out how to make Nathen think that you’re telling superhero stories, like the ones from TV shows he watches? He doesn’t need to know the gory details still, but maybe we can make serial killers be Cereal Monsters, like he thinks. That way if he overhears you, he’ll think about his superheroes. What do you think?”

There’s a beat of silence before Kendra says anything. “Yeah, if you think he’ll believe that my stories are make believe. I know he’s too little to know what’s really happening.”

Paige nods, appreciating Kendra’s willingness. “I think it’s worth a try. Tomorrow, we can start by telling him a story about the Cereal Monster, who stomped all over the Fruit Loops until a hero saved the day.”