And by scare easy, I mean if you walk past me too quietly and catch me off guard,
I may scream and lash out at you.
I get this from my sister, Jenny, who is known for hitting people on the
head when they scare her.
When we were little, my brother, Chris, and I would listen to her singing into her hair brush in the bathroom and wait outside to scare her.
When she would open the door, we would yell "Boo!"
We were often nailed right on the forehead with a Goody brush.
But her screams were worth it.
She did get me back, however, by laying in wait for me one night
when I went in the kitchen to get cookies and milk.
When I rounded the corner, she screamed, and I pitched the entire cup of milk
onto my own face. It dripped nicely off my bangs and glasses.
Jenny felt vindicated.
My own family refuses to sit near me during suspenseful movies.
During Jurassic Park, when Newman from Seinfeld,
was attacked by those evil dinosaurs that made that inquistive purring sound
followed by a snake like hiss and a death lunge,
I screamed so loud and clutched Scott's knee so hard that he screamed.
It was a manly scream, of course, but he has never forgiven me.
I also grabbed my Dad's leg during The Fugitive and almost gave him a coronary.
He lost a good 5 years off his life and he hasn't taken me to a father/daughter movie since.
I don't even watch scary movies.
I've hyperventilated just watching suspenseful episodes of ER.
I still have nightmares about the Halloween episode of Little House on the Prairie where Laura Ingalls thought that Mrs. Olson had been beheaded.
Mrs. Olson was scary enough on her own without being headless.
Just today I went on a field trip with Will to the pumpkin patch and there was
a haunted house i.e. room with fake masks and rubber spiders stapled to walls and colored with neon paint to be lit up by a black light.
We had the option for going through with the lights off or lights on.
Lights on, people. You don't even have to ask. The boys were disappointed.
I still felt jumpy with the lights on and laughed nervously all the way through saying things like,
"This is all fake, now, you know that right? Very fake! And oh my lordy, that man clown with purple lips is horrifying...but it's entirely not real, boys, just like that giant spider hanging is also not real and chop, chop, let's get going to see the petting zoo, shall we?"
But now I am back in the safety of my own home where the only scary thing taking place here is the unprecedented mound of laundry heaped up in the hallway.
This is terrifying in its own right but it's a horror that I deal with on a daily basis so there is no cause for alarm.
And if by any chance some small child tries to lurk behind the laundry and scare me, I've got a Goody brush on hand.
Just in case.