When I was little My Mother would read me a bedtime story called " Big Toe".
I remember being so frighten and I wanted to tell my Mother to stop but it made her happy to read Scary stories to me and so I let her.
And at night when I would be shaking in fright that the man was going to come in my room and ask for his big toe, I told myself that I would never ever let her read it again.

But then I would remember my Mother's seldom seen smile and I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world even though her teeth were stain yellow, crooked,and rotting, and hug my stuff pig tight and fall asleep.

Now that I have found the story again I can't help but lose myself in the memory of being by my Mother's side in a rare display of affection, all warm and safe inhaling her foul yet comforting sent.