“Flashlight, misting water bottle, and a storybook,” he said. “What else? They don’t fight fair.”

“Do not look in their eyes!” She said. “Now, go conquer.”

“I am a soldier. I can take on this army.” He marched into the living room. “Surrender! Resistance is futile!”

“Da-a-ad,” Adam rolled his eyes.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Reluctantly, the kids walked upstairs as if each foot weighed a hundred pounds.

He read bedtime stories and sang songs. At Adam’s door, he used the flashlight to peak into every dark corner, then misted the Bogeyman Protecting Spray about the room.

“Thanks, Dad,” Adam said.

“What’s a little bogyphobia among friends?” He kissed Adam’s forehead.

In Mary’s room, the soft blue nightlight colored everything. “Thanks, Dad,” she kissed his cheek.

“What’s a little achluophobia among friends?”

“Do all kids know the name for fear of darkness?”

“Just the smart ones,” he kissed her forehead.

He was content. Fighting the clinophobics was one of his favorite things.