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Wednesday, October 24, 2012


For the few friends I have this is not news, I am a deranged person.  It is, also, I am certain, why the friend list is pretty short.  But if you ever wish to check on this from a professional you can ask my son.  He has a masters degree in industrial psychology.  He had me do the ink blot test and other stuff during his years in grad school.  He had been given reasons repeatedly during his childhood to question my shall we call it sanity.

Our precious son preparing for a fishing adventure with his dad.
When our son was around ten years old he had gone into the bathroom.  I though it would be fun to pull a joke on him when he opened the door.  Being close to Halloween and my face having the profile of a witch, hooked nose and protruding chin, no makeup was needed.  Just a growl and a contorted face should do the trick.  Oh, and run my fingers through my hair.

John Roger opened the door to what he thought would be simply an empty hall.  Instead he was sent into the throes of terror by what greeted him.  He was horrified by my growling scowl with arms raised into the air stance.  My poor baby boy began crying and running for his life.  I did not give chase in character but I did go to console him.

All he could sob was, "Mom, you are supposed to protect me".  I was definitely WW M, world's worst mom.  Only long hugs, kisses and deep apologies finally calmed my sweet and tender little boy.  That incident was 29 years ago and I still have never fully forgiven myself.

Now when I get into the Halloween spirit, I tone down the facial expressions.  Some years, Gene and I will rig up a lighted pumpkin with some strings on our porch.  When we open the door for trick or treaters the pumpkin rises off the chair.  Other years we dress as scare crows and sit in the chair and love seat along with the other decorations.  With a mechanical bat making circles above the walk, the kids do not notice us as they are walking onto the dimly lit porch.  Well, not till we ask them what they are doing on our porch!  But after the experience with my son, I never use a gruff voice or completely surprise the kids.  We do not need any trampled parents suing us.

But let us allow you decide for yourself.  How would you feel if you walked out of the bathroom tonight and this is what greeted you?

Little wonder John Roger became a type of psychologist and checks all treats sent from me to his boys.....

Second Blooming
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