Being five years old is really tough. Especially when zombies and
other apocalyptic monsters live upstairs. All I did was ask
him to go to his room and put on his pajamas, and what happens? A
supermega meltdown. I really feel for the kid, I mean he feels seriously
traumatized right now. Then I remind myself, tis the season of haunting
shadows. With the change in temperature, and the all around feeling of
darkness taking over light, you can't blame him, or anyone else, for how a
seemingly normal task morphs into the zombie apocalypse. With all
due respect, Halloween is NOT an easy time for the vivid imagination of a
developing child, or scaredy cat adult. (Hi, yeah, I'm talking about
me. This oddball adult right here.) Well, maybe for those
who are able to embrace the horrific, but not this chica nor her
eldest offspring.
It seems not only do advertisements for all things spooky pummel the
airways, but also every based on true life events, freakishly terrifying movie
trailer appears to reproduce exponentially. Then there are the
"classic" horror film marathons shown in chronological order, or
first the original followed by an updated, more gory remake.
Then there are the ones taking place in, oh say a cornfield, a wooded plot at
the lesser populated end of a road, a haunted cemetery... you know
"normal" places that exist in every dark corner of every town in
America. You watch the movie, then take a hike to a similarly
scenic destination trying to talk yourself into believing this
will be "FUN" only to find yourself closer to a coronary with
every passing moment. Oh, now don't forget the ever popular haunted
house. So not my thing. I'd rather eat headcheese. I
can't comprehend why I should pay someone to scare the crap out of
me, or better yet, publicly pee myself. But the frosting on the cake,
cherry on the sundae issue for me has always been creepy dolls. The more
realistic those porcelain headed, stare through you to the depths of your soul,
demonic creations the more creeped out I get. That fear was
cemented in my adolescent years when I begged my sister to tell a story
about a possessed doll who's nails dripped blood. Yeah, not a great scenario
for a kid already developing serious doll issues. And what is it with
sleeping with closet doors open? Who does that anyway? Besides,
where else does one lock up those disturbing dolls at night? They can't
just be left out to aimlessly roam about stealing life giving breath from
people. Don't even get me started on the space under the bed. I
even wrote a paper junior year of high school about it. I entitled that
skillfully written, literary masterpiece, "The Bermuda Rectangle." Incidentally,
you may find it amusing that the first video I ever saw on MTV was Michael
Jackson's Thriller... the extended version.
Needless to say, I'm not a huge fan of the spine-chilling side of Halloween,
but I will take the trick-or-treating, caramel apples, spiced apple cider,
hayrides (as long as they aren't haunted), and all the other not so
scary stuff. Well, October 31st is only a couple days
away, so be safe out there and have fun. I'll be on the sidelines
continuously reminding my rational self none of this is *real*.
Happy Halloween!!!
(Bla, ha, ha, ha...)
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