See, in my younger, pre-mom days, I loved all things scary. Halloween was my favorite Holiday (Still is! But for different reasons. Can you say candy?)
At any given time in my yearing years, I wanted to be a witch, a vampire, or just plain gothic. And while I was too much of a wuss to be a Goth on the outside, I sure was one on the inside.
Sarcastic, non-smiling, emo-listening, is what I was.
But I'm not anymore. Only, I keep forgetting that this change occured. So a scary movie will come on T.V., all edited and censored and stuff, and I'll say "don't mind if I do". And then a baby or a child will appear somewhere in that movie, and I will be plagued for days and days, and sometimes years and years with the images and sounds of creepy, whispering, possessed children.
I blame motherhood for this.
You know how when people have kids and their parents sit back and just wait for them to get what's coming to them? Like, they gave them a hard time growing up, and now those grandparents want to watch while their grandkids treat the new moms and dads in the same manner?
It just happened to me; Mom, I'm sure you're thrilled.
And I'll tell you how.
A few days ago, I was cooking dinner in the kitchen, and Bri calls me from her room. "I can put a dress on, Mommy?"
And I yell back, "No, Bri. You're about to take a bath so just keep on the clothes you have on."
"But my sister told me I need a dress on."
And I drop my spoon because, you see, Bri is an only child, as far as I know. So, I walk into her room and ask, "Your sister?"
"Yes. The one in my mouth." She then opens her mouth and points down her throat.
Oh, great. Now images of a creepy, dead child clawing its way out of Bri's mouth are filling my head. Have you seen that movie preview? No? Good. Count yourself lucky.
I (trying to stay calm, but freaking the crap out) let Bri pick out a dress and put it on because who am I to make a ghost mad and take it out on my three-year-old?
And I must have made "sister" happy because the evening went on quite normally. Until Bri went to bed. And I hear this through the monitor.
"Stop. You hurt me. Why did you hurt me?"
I immediately run into her room and look around like an idiot because everyone knows only children can see the ghosts, and (again, trying to be calm) ask Bri if she is okay.
Through a series of vague head shakes and nods, I get that she was just playing - talking to herself if you will - and was not actually hurt. No one in her room hurt her, she said, nor did anyone hurt her at school that day.
After I left her room, she went right to sleep and everything has been just fine, except for the occasional mention of "sister".
In the car a day or two later, Bri told me that she played with "sister" on the playground at school. So great. Not only is "sister" at home, but now she's following Bri to school.
I tried telling Bri that it was scary for Mommy when she talked about "sister", but she just laughed and let out the most blood-curtling, jump-out-of-your-skin scream I have ever heard.
So, if this behavior keeps up, who am I going to call?
Yep, ghost busters.
Don't let the innocent face fool you.