Goodnight, Orange Monster

My son Ken was the inspiration for this book. Every night I had to reassure him that there was not a monster in his closet.

And then I thought ― but what if there really was? And what if the little monster inside the closet was afraid that there was a little boy in the room. And what if the mother monster had to reassure him that there wasn't such a thing as little boys.

Well, of course, the two eventually met and played together secretly. Ken's mother was surprised that her son suddenly seemed so grownup ― he didn't need extra glasses of water and he wasn't afraid of the closet anymore.

“Nonsense,” his mother would reply. “There’s no such thing as monsters.”
    “But I heard one.”
    “Where?”
    “In the closet.”
“There’s nothing in the closet but clothes and toys,” his mother would say patiently. “Now go to sleep.”

And finally when he was so full of water he could have floated like a balloon into the night sky, he would bury his head under the covers and fall asleep.

Now the truth is that Ken was right. There was a monster who lived in his closet. He was a small monster, no larger than Ken. His name was Moogi, and he stayed there all alone with his mother. His father was outside in a dark, dank cave where big monsters belong.