The world is a scary place, even now that I’m an adult. As a child, I had my mom to insulate me from the vagaries of bureaucratic nonsense and teachers who hated children. I had Saturday morning cartoons and professional wrestling to insulate me from the horrors of the news cycle. Better, there was no Internet, so I didn’t have to be bombarded with all of man’s inhumanity to men every second of the day. I had teachers who explored the beauty of literature, which protected me from succumbing to the numerous scams and conspiracy theories that are evermore present. Still, there was one time when the world was at its scariest. Night would fall, and I would be in my bed in the dark. Even there, I had my protectors: an elite fighting force of stuffed animals watched over and protected me while I slept.