Despite my fervent warnings, my 13 year old daughter is going to see her first scary movie today. I suppose I’ll need to make some room in my bed tonight.
It’s possible she will be like her father, who has no problem sitting in a dark house in the wee hours of the night while the TV flashes images unfit for my psyche. cough…Saw…cough. Popcorn and Paranormal Activity are not my idea of a good time.
My guess is that she’ll be more like me and won’t be able to wash the dishes without thinking someone is walking up behind her. Note: Always wash the steak knives last, so they’re within easy reach for a quick stabbing.
Maybe she will walk past a window and be startled by her own reflection, or feel the need to look in her closet and under her bed before she goes to sleep. Maybe she’ll be scared to go in the basement, or take a shower, or walk anywhere after dark. Where’s my Zoloft?
Though, I suppose it would be a good thing for this movie to scare her in the way Amityville Horror did me. I am cautious, aware, and I know how to wield a crucifix.
Not to mention that the last time my husband and I went to the shooting range, I was a way better shot.