Some years ago, we added a spookity battery-operated ghoul-thingy to our sparse Halloween display. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was on sale.
The thing is, it had a motion detector that made it shake and laugh maniacally when you walked near. Naturally, we were concerned this might freak out our very young children.
So we staged an introduction, like a couple of adoption agents showing three little children their new father for the first time.
Us: “Kids, look what we bought for Halloween. Ooh, isn’t it spooky looking? But he isn’t spooky, really. He’s nice. He’s funny.”
Kids: Skeptical looks.
Us: “He’s just laughing, see? He must think something is funny!”
Us: “He’s just a silly, silly man. Let’s call him … Peter. Yeah, his name is Peter. You’re not scared of Peter, are you?”
Kids: “Heh … Peter? Heh. Hi, Peter.”
It worked. The name Peter totally robbed this disgusting monster of all its menace. Now we have the least scary array of Halloween decorations in our house, from Peter the ghoul to Pat the ghost, and these beasts hold absolutely no sway over our children.
Let us pray the Zombie Apocalypse doesn’t happen in the next decade or my children will probably run willy-nilly into those open and waiting zombie arms.
“I like this one! He’s silly! Let’s call him Steve. Maybe he likes to play … AIGGH! MY BRAIN!”