All the things to tell the therapist...
Hola Wild Boy friends and family!
I'd welcome you to another week here, but in all actuality it was a week you'd really like to avoid. Specifically if you like sleep. But I have nobody to blame but myself on this one, so I'll fall on the sword this time. I created paranoid little monsters, and now I'm paying for it.
See, I'm super duper terrified of clowns. I know, this seems like a bit of a tangent. I promise, it will all tie back in. Since I was little, just absolutely terrified. Yes, I've watched the clown related horror movies because I LOVE horror movies. But clowns themselves break me out in a cold sweat. Now, as a dutiful parent I've done all the things that are expected of you with small children. We went to the circus years ago. The cop was kind enough to accompany the wild boys down to the floor for the activities near the clowns, and was wise enough to buy me drinks before the show. It was a REALLY long show, and I literally held Gabe and used him as a human shield more then once before we made it out of there, but the boys have nothing but fond memories. At that point I kind of thought I was done. Wrong.
A few years ago Gavin decided he wanted to be a scary clown for Halloween. I tried EVERYTHING to talk him out of it. Believe me, EVERYTHING. Up to and including telling him it was unwise because at that time there was that little outbreak of people back east dressed as clowns trying to lure people into the woods and kill them. Did any of this work? No.
Which brings us to this year. I haven't shopped for Halloween yet, but we all know what's probably going to happen. Especially since "It" was just released, and Gav is OBSESSED with watching the trailer and begging to see it in the theater. I may make his Grandpa take him because there is no way in HELL I'm going. But in all of the watching of trailers and me telling Gavin that clowns are in fact the root of all evil, we forgot about one thing. Gabriel.
Gabriel has been watching and listening to everything from the sidelines and has developed a pretty healthy little clown phobia of his own. At some point during the weekend Gabe asked me if there are any real killer clowns. What should I have said? I should have said no. Of course not, kiddo. But the thing is, they're wicked smart kids and they would have found out anyway eventually and it would have turned into something they told a future therapist I lied about. So I very carefully worded a response about how once, before I was even born, there was a killer that dressed as a clown.
Gabriel: "And he killed a person?"
Me: "Well, technically he was a serial killer and killed more than one person."
Gavin: "What did he use to kill them?"
Gabriel: "Aren't you listening???? He used CEREAL!"
At which point the cop and I explained the difference between serial and cereal, because Lord help us if clowns AND cereal became horrifying for Gabriel. Both boys then demanded to see pictures of this person. Like the fool I am, I googled up good old John Wayne Gacy and let them have a peek. Probably should have looked at the text underneath that specified that he killed at least 33 boys. Because THEY sure did. Gabe's final assessment? He says he'll never sleep again.
And I want to be totally sympathetic, because clowns are in fact Satan in white grease paint, but I have problems of my own. Namely, this Tooth Fairy garbage. See, the Wild Boys are going through this tweaker phase right now where they are each losing about a tooth per week. Not only am I going ridiculously broke, but it means I have to do the whole creeping upstairs and trying to be stealthy and replace a tooth with money bit which I'm terrible at. Between the two of them they've lost two teeth this weekend alone, and thanks to stupid clowns they're sleeping in the same bed, which means trying to wedge my fatty hand under a pillow with TWO tiny skulls on it and make the ninja-like Tooth Fairy exchange. They caught me once, and I had to pretend I was there to yell at them for leaving a light on. They're holding pretty true to this not sleeping thing, which means I'm not either because I either have to stay up super late or else set an alarm for the middle of the night when I think they'll be really out. Spoiler alert, I am in no way stealth on a good day and in the middle of the night I trip over everything, including my own feet and the really confused dog. It's been a long, long sleepless weekend folks.
And now we can add to the impending therapy talking point list the clown fear, the fear induced clown kick, the John Wayne Gacy slideshow before bedtime, and yelling at them in the middle of the night for leaving lights on...but never can they say the Tooth Fairy stiffed them. Yet. There's a lot of baby teeth left, and I'm a pretty flawed human.
Wish me luck, they don't need any more ammunition.
I'd welcome you to another week here, but in all actuality it was a week you'd really like to avoid. Specifically if you like sleep. But I have nobody to blame but myself on this one, so I'll fall on the sword this time. I created paranoid little monsters, and now I'm paying for it.
See, I'm super duper terrified of clowns. I know, this seems like a bit of a tangent. I promise, it will all tie back in. Since I was little, just absolutely terrified. Yes, I've watched the clown related horror movies because I LOVE horror movies. But clowns themselves break me out in a cold sweat. Now, as a dutiful parent I've done all the things that are expected of you with small children. We went to the circus years ago. The cop was kind enough to accompany the wild boys down to the floor for the activities near the clowns, and was wise enough to buy me drinks before the show. It was a REALLY long show, and I literally held Gabe and used him as a human shield more then once before we made it out of there, but the boys have nothing but fond memories. At that point I kind of thought I was done. Wrong.
A few years ago Gavin decided he wanted to be a scary clown for Halloween. I tried EVERYTHING to talk him out of it. Believe me, EVERYTHING. Up to and including telling him it was unwise because at that time there was that little outbreak of people back east dressed as clowns trying to lure people into the woods and kill them. Did any of this work? No.
And eventually he figured out I'm just scared of them. He kind of figured this out the hard way when he jumped out to scare me in the mask and I fear kicked him, almost vomited and barely refrained from peeing myself. Not my best showing as a parent. Don't worry, of the two of us only I cried. In fact, Gavin thought it was so hilarious that he next year...you guessed it:
Which brings us to this year. I haven't shopped for Halloween yet, but we all know what's probably going to happen. Especially since "It" was just released, and Gav is OBSESSED with watching the trailer and begging to see it in the theater. I may make his Grandpa take him because there is no way in HELL I'm going. But in all of the watching of trailers and me telling Gavin that clowns are in fact the root of all evil, we forgot about one thing. Gabriel.
Gabriel has been watching and listening to everything from the sidelines and has developed a pretty healthy little clown phobia of his own. At some point during the weekend Gabe asked me if there are any real killer clowns. What should I have said? I should have said no. Of course not, kiddo. But the thing is, they're wicked smart kids and they would have found out anyway eventually and it would have turned into something they told a future therapist I lied about. So I very carefully worded a response about how once, before I was even born, there was a killer that dressed as a clown.
Gabriel: "And he killed a person?"
Me: "Well, technically he was a serial killer and killed more than one person."
Gavin: "What did he use to kill them?"
Gabriel: "Aren't you listening???? He used CEREAL!"
At which point the cop and I explained the difference between serial and cereal, because Lord help us if clowns AND cereal became horrifying for Gabriel. Both boys then demanded to see pictures of this person. Like the fool I am, I googled up good old John Wayne Gacy and let them have a peek. Probably should have looked at the text underneath that specified that he killed at least 33 boys. Because THEY sure did. Gabe's final assessment? He says he'll never sleep again.
And I want to be totally sympathetic, because clowns are in fact Satan in white grease paint, but I have problems of my own. Namely, this Tooth Fairy garbage. See, the Wild Boys are going through this tweaker phase right now where they are each losing about a tooth per week. Not only am I going ridiculously broke, but it means I have to do the whole creeping upstairs and trying to be stealthy and replace a tooth with money bit which I'm terrible at. Between the two of them they've lost two teeth this weekend alone, and thanks to stupid clowns they're sleeping in the same bed, which means trying to wedge my fatty hand under a pillow with TWO tiny skulls on it and make the ninja-like Tooth Fairy exchange. They caught me once, and I had to pretend I was there to yell at them for leaving a light on. They're holding pretty true to this not sleeping thing, which means I'm not either because I either have to stay up super late or else set an alarm for the middle of the night when I think they'll be really out. Spoiler alert, I am in no way stealth on a good day and in the middle of the night I trip over everything, including my own feet and the really confused dog. It's been a long, long sleepless weekend folks.
And now we can add to the impending therapy talking point list the clown fear, the fear induced clown kick, the John Wayne Gacy slideshow before bedtime, and yelling at them in the middle of the night for leaving lights on...but never can they say the Tooth Fairy stiffed them. Yet. There's a lot of baby teeth left, and I'm a pretty flawed human.
Wish me luck, they don't need any more ammunition.
Jenny this was thoroughly entertaining. I love ready this stuff.
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