Last night, in a last ditch attempt to avoid sleeping in his own bed, William came into my room at 9:50 and said "I just want to tell you..." (I'm thinking he wants to tell me he loves me, but no) "...that I've kind of started believing in vampires." I'm not that nice of a mom, because I wasn't like "Oh, no, sweetie, vampires aren't real." I said "Get out of my room. Vampires don't exist. If they did, I'd protect you from them. Get out."
What do you think he was thinking about this morning when he asked me "Why do you always wear black?" He probably thinks I'm a vampire. He'll soon be starring in his own Disney Channel movie My Mom's a Vampire.
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