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Wednesday
Nov052008

Fright Night

OK, it's been almost a week since Halloween, and my brave little Kate is still suffering from PTHHS: post-traumatic haunted house syndrome.

This is the kid who answers such questions as "What do you fear?" with an honest "Nothing." She gets on roller coasters, kills spiders, enters dark rooms and performs solos and speeches in front of crowds without hesitation.

But the haunted house at her school last week finally tapped into something. It was so strange and out of character for her that I wasn't sure if she was just having a dramatic moment or needing a little extra attention. Nope. As she shivered in fear in her little bed as I clutched her tight, it was immediately clear that this was pure, undiluted, flat-out trauma from being scared so silly that she couldn't find the reset button in her smart and completely logical 8-year-old brain.

The theme was something along the lines of a haunted cafeteria, where children were, to the believing and impressionable mind, being washed and packaged to become the mystery meat offered up by servers in hair nets.

I'm guessing that I'll be packing lunches for her for the remainder of the school year.

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