In the course of the last two-plus years, we've come face-to-face with some rather interesting childhood phobias.
Ironically, it's the middlest who shows the most tendencies towards being inexplicably afraid of things. (It's a stark contrast to my sister, also a middle child, who seemed to be afraid of nothing. Perhaps it's because the middle child here is also an oldest twin.) First fear? Bugs.
Okay, that I can understand. I've had to go from the squeamish one, always having Hubby kill the bugs, to the one who performs most insect executions. I try to hide my heebies when doing so in front of the kids, but really, most bugs don't just squish. They crunch. It's gross.
Next fear? Fuzzies. Good heavens, let there not be lint! And this, from my child who is addicted to anything soft and fluffy.
Then there were the mean red "eyes" on the monitor in the twins' room. Had to turn that so that the red lights faced away from Medium Fry's bed; otherwise it was staring at her and it was scawwy.
Then one night I noticed that we had a spare pillowcase hung on the doorknob on the back of the door to the twins' room. It was probably there for a couple weeks until I finally asked Hubby about it. "Medium's afraid of the doorknob."
What?
"It's scary."
Oooookay.
Next up, the ceiling light fixture. Medium Fry came unglued a few days after my asking Hubby about the pillowcase. "What's so scary?" I asked at bedtime, perplexed.
"Dat!"
"What?" I looked in the general direction where she was pointing, but saw nothing that could be construed as being scary.
"Daaaaaat!!!"
"The light?"
*whimper* "Yes."
"It's a light, honey. Why is it scary?"
"Because it has a nooooooose!"
For Pete's sake. The light fixture has a ball in the middle, on the bottom. "It's fine. It's not scary, it's not a nose, and it's not going to hurt you. Okay?"
She settled down, and thankfully, the ceiling light hasn't been an issue since.
Not so much with the doorknob, however. If the pillowcase comes off, or falls off because one of the cats has played with it, it had better be back in the right spot before bedtime.
Now, I told you all that to tell you this story from bedtime tonight.
I wanted to stay downstairs and watch tv, and with my sinus icks, the next time I go upstairs, it's for the night. The girls all give me hugs and kisses goodnight, and Hubby takes them upstairs to tuck them in.
A few minutes later, I hear Medium Fry crying. "Scawwy! Scawwy! Scawwy!"
The door bangs in the twins' room, and I hear Hubby's voice through the monitor. "What is wrong?"
Whimpers ensue. Hubby comes downstairs a few minutes later, and I ask what Medium's problem was.
"The pillowcase fell off the doorknob," he said.
"What did you tell her?"
"I said that there are doorknobs all over this house, and she's not afraid of them."
"And?"
"She said, 'But it's going like this!'" And then Hubby screwed up his face and puckered up his lips like he was going in for a smooching kiss.
I have no idea how he kept a straight face on that one.
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