|Creepy random red balloon.|
No. I wanted her to actually be scared. (Yeah. Not your normal parent I guess.) Like when those two freaky twin girls show up in the hotel hallway in The Shining or when Jeff Goldbloom begs his girlfriend to help him be human again in the remake of The Fly.
Anyway, my parental conscience and my excessive overthinking disability pruned it all down to The Sixth Sense. I reasoned she might enjoy it so I gifted it to her and suggested we watch it as a family.
Six. Months. Ago.
That kid! There's a saying: "Attention Defici--oh look, a butterfly." Yup. Let's just say she's easily distracted.
Anyway we finally watched it and we were just at the birthday party scene where the bullies lock Cole in that cupboard at the top of the spiral staircase. (Come on! Did that family live in a Paris hotel or what?) And duh, there's obviously a very disgruntled Parisian in there. Anyway, my little family and I were all snuggled in our family room downstairs under blankets watching intently (kinda)....
My son: (chewing on his blanket to alleviate his burgeoning fear) I hate this movie because it's so real.
My wife: (on a tiny fraction of the couch wedged between the arm and my daughter's feet) Just watch.
My daughter: (clutching her phone like it's a big meat cleaver and texting at the same time): *tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick (ad nauseum)*
Me: (shaking my head at my teen daughter while having a debate in my pea-brain about the symbolism of the red balloon floating, floating, when suddenly...) Press pause.
There's a noise upstairs.
Everyone ignores me.
There. Is. A. Noise. Up. Stairs.
But. We. Are. All. Downstairs!
We listen. There it is again! We tiptoe upstairs. We wait at the top of our stairs. Yeah I know: JUST LIKE THE MOVIE!!! But I didn't realize that until later. Instead, these were my thoughts: It sounds like...like...someone sharpening a knife...someone very skilled and confident...sharpening a frickin knife! (Thankfully, my composure somewhat maintained, I did not SCREAM this at my family.) It's coming from the kitchen. And that knife sounds plastic?! We peer around the corner. There it is again...My God. It's coming from the computer!!!
Yeah. So. I quickly googled "why does my cd/dvd tray keep opening and closing?" and scored 619,000 results. I bet one of those links directly to that damn M. Night Shyamalan. And this is revenge for what I said earlier about his movies.
1To be completely honest, most scary movies whether they are excellent, mediocre, or even a few lame ones (including Chucky) have the same effect on me: they scare me. And another thing: the title of this post is inspired by a fellow blogger who knows way more about scary movies than I do and whose post titles, quite franky, suggest some sort of personality disorder (in a very good way). Click here. She's hilarious.