The normally vivacious and blissful Dochyel stood very stiffly at the bottom of the old stairs that lead up to the attic. Since a real sword was inaccessible to little Dochyel, he held a large serving spoon stained with spaghetti in his right hand. In his left hand he firmly held one of his mothers cast iron lids to her frying pan. On his head he sported a metal spaghetti strainer. He was prepared to …showed first 75 words of 929 total…

…showed last 75 words of 929 total…shocked to hear this. His sister led him out of the attic and put away all his utensils. He could swear that a monster lived up there. That night when the pensive Dochyel lay quietly in bed, he heard the noises again, but this time he knew that it was his mom and dad up in the attic, until they came in that very second to give him a hug and a kiss good night!