Chickens

The kids experienced their first haunted house tonight as we went with my parent's to an Optimist Club sponsored Zombie Fest at a local library. When my dad asked if I wanted to go, I concentrated on the words "Optimist Club" and "library" and extrapolated the following thought -- shouldn't be too scary. Sure, let's give it a whirl.


Our kids are pretty casual about some things. They love "Lord of the Rings" (both book and film) and they have no trouble with Orcs, Gollum, and the Balrog. We are also big fans of Harry Potter (again - both books and films), but there are scenes in the films we completely skip over to this day because the creep-me-out factor is just a little too much. (For instance, Voldemort latched onto Quirrell drinking unicorn blood in the Dark Forrest is a definite skip.) There really is no rhyme or reason behind what will be perfectly acceptable and what crosses the line into utterly frightening.

When we arrived at the library, I should have been tipped off by the Grim Reaper pointing the way towards the parking but it wasn't until I was standing with our guide, gazing over a field of tombstones and moving figures that I really began to question whether this was a wise idea. Keats and Aidan were each clutching my hands and Abigail had a death grip around Shelby's neck. Elias was happily snuggled in Papaw's arms and making his R2D2 noises while pointing at everything.

The first stop we came to was a camp fire where some zombies were preparing their dinner, which is a perfectly reasonable activity. Cooking over their fire, though, was a cauldron of human body parts. And while trying to explain this away to the boys ("How neat that they made their hotdogs to look like body parts! That's a very creative way to eat!"), an escaped convict zombie came dashing out of the woods at us causing everyone to jump and Aidan to begin trying to climb up my leg. But even Aidan relaxed once he understood that the convict-zombie was running back away because "he thought we were his cousins and he was just super-excited to see us tonight! Imagine how disappointed he is right now."

The next stop had some chainsaw-wielding zombie who proceeded to slowly march toward us. I turned him into "the nice gentleman who is going to cut firewood for the campfire we just passed. Isn't he thoughtful?"

Next we were instructed to notice the shrouded skeleton over in the bushes ("Oh my, boys! He must have had to pee in the bushes just like you like to do when you are playing outside!") and the headless giant who was carrying his head in his arms ("Well, that is a convenient way to be able to wash your face. You could simply put your head in the dishwasher while your body slept!")

The zombie girls who waited for us in the gazebo asking if we had any blood to spare certainly earned sympathy once I explained that Zombie blood is actually translated as Hot Cocoa, and these poor girls were just wishing for a nice, warm drink.

On and on it went as we continued to encounter scary situations that I frantically tried to change into something Disney-esque. My creativity went into over drive as I explained away scene after scene. The haunted barn was a tough one, but here I was reminded again that I really do not understand the way our kids think sometimes. As we walked into the Zombie Ball-room, all the kids breathed a little easier as they said "Ah, here are the skeletons!"

Sure enough, the room was full of every type of skeleton you could imagine on display and the kids happily pointed out their favorites in this foggy, poorly lit barn. We really are bizarre.

After our trek through the zombie fest, we were given our choice of Little Debbie snacks and a styrofoam cup of hot cocoa. We double-timed it back to the van where we could get out of the wind and we all enjoyed our snacks. On our drive home, everyone shared their favorite part with the categories being the most creepy part, the funniest part, and their favorite part.

I may have a little damage control to do, although not with the nightmares I thought I might have to deal with. You see, when we arrived home Keats asked Abigail if he could have a drink of her Zombie Blood. I glanced at him puzzled and he replied with perfect sincerity, "You know mom, her hot cocoa."

Oops.