"Daddy, Daddy!" the little boy cried, "There are monsters under my bed!"
"No there are not," his father replied, "there are no such things as monsters."
"But there are! I hear them at night. They rattle the stones as they play."
With a sigh, his father looked under the bed, There was nothing but a go set, some graphic novels, and some dirty clothing. He grabbed the clothing and tossed it in the clothes hamper.
"I looked. There is nothing there." He sighed again. "Please just go to sleep. There are no monsters."
"Yes there are," the little boy shrieked, "it's full of monsters!"
"Full?", the father said. "You mean really full?"
"Yes! I can hear them arguing over elbow room."
"OK then," his father said. "Keep the light on, I'll be back."
A few minues later, the father returned with a saw. "Son, it is a matter of simple logic." He bent down to one of the wooden bed legs. "If it is full of monsters, and I cut the legs short by an inch, then there won't be enough room for them. Then one of them will have to come out where we can see it. If you can't see it, well, then that means that there is no such thing as monsters." He trimmed the other three legs to match, kicked the pieces into the corner, and walked to the door.
"Now go to sleep." And he left the room.
The next evening, the little boy cried, "Daddy, Daddy, there are still monsters under my bed."
"I told you there are no monsters there," his father said.
"But there are! I can hear their claws scratching on the tile!"
"There are no such things as monsters," his father said. "But just to prove to you the power of logic, we'll cut another inch off tonight. Then you will see that there are no monsters." The father got his saw, and again shortened the bed.
The third evening, the little boy cried, "Daddy, Daddy, there are still monsters under my bed. They threatened to cut off one of my arms!"
Without a word, his father got his saw, and sliced of another inch. "Go to sleep," he said, and he left the room.
The fourth evening the little boy cried "Daddy, Daddy, there are monsters under my bed. They threatened to cut off my other arm!"
"Son", said the father, "You must learn to be rational." He cut off another four inches, and then put down the saw. He pointed to the growing pile of wooden slices in the corner. "Three nights ago you told me that the space under your bed was full of monsters. We have lowered your bed several inches now. If there were monsters there, they would have been squeezed out."
He sat on the bed, put his hands gently on his son's shoulders, and looked squarely into his eyes. "You can see for yourself that no monsters have appeared. Now please, go to sleep."
The fifth evening the little boy cried "Daddy, Daddy, there are monsters under my bed. They threatened to cut off my leg!"
As before, the father cut of another inch, and pleaded with his son to be reasonable, then left.
The sixth, seventh, and eighth evenings were much the same.
On the ninth evening, again the little boy cried, "Daddy, Daddy, there are monsters under my bed!"
With an exasperated scowl, his father said, "That does it! I will prove to you that there are no monsters!" He pulled the books and the go set out from under the bed. "These will be in the garage." he said. Then he cut the last part of all four legs off, so that the bed frame rested on the tiled floor.
"Now," he said, "this will prove to you that there are no such things as monsters. There is no room for them at all!" And he left the room with his saw, and the go set and books.
That night, there was no room for the monsters under the bed, and no go set either. So they played go in the middle of the room, on the grout lines of the tiled floor, using slices of bed leg for one color, and slices of little boy for the other.