If you had to ask my wife what’s the one genre of movies I will not watch, she will undoubtedly reply quickly with “scary movies.” I would rather sit down and watch 100 romantic comedies, terrible chick flicks and documentaries on foreign conflict than sit through one scary movie. Let’s be honest, I probably couldn’t sit through one.
My disdain for scary movies started at a young age. From Freddy Krueger to It, and let’s not forget Little Monsters, for some reason my childhood was filled with scary movies. At friend’s houses for sleepovers, or with my little brother who loved them, it seems as though if it were time to watch a movie, odds are it was a scary one and I didn’t like it. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I made the decision of no more scary movies or scary stuff at all — I was done.
Now you’re probably wondering where I am going with this? Hang with me, it’s about to get hilarious. I’m not sure how or why, but for some reason Camryn thinks it’s hilarious to scare me. I don’t get scared easily per say, but she does little things that catch my eye and make me look twice like, “What was that!?”
For instance, last year she set a punching bag clown at the bottom of the stairs. I woke up early in the morning and had to go downstairs to get some clothes. Still sleepy, I flipped the light on at the top of the stairs and there it was. I mumbled some profanity, slipped as I stepped over the baby gate, missed the first step completely and fell. Clinging to the railing for dear life, I quickly gathered my senses, as I was almost positive there was a person at the bottom of the stairs. When I realized what it was, I chuckled and continued down the stairs — and gave Bozo a haymaker as I passed by.
Most recently, after I had finished the rodeo that is bath time with both girls, I went back in to clean up. As I knelt down to start picking up all the toys, I felt something strange looking back at me. I looked up, and there’s a headless cabbage patch doll with its body inverted and propped up next to it. Why? Just why? First off, why remove the head? Second, for being three years old I know she went through some work to position it like that. It’s almost like she knows I don’t like scary movies or being scared in general. Her mom has made jokes with her before about, but maybe she took it a little too seriously.
At any rate, the piles of headless Barbies and contorted dolls around my house are a daily reminder of just why I don’t like scary movies. I don’t see this slowing down any time soon, no matter how much I plead with her to keep her doll heads on. But hopefully, as she gets older, she can learn to respect her dad’s wishes and not scare the crap out him!