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Originally Posted by MorganGrayson
Wow. What a war manners and fear would have fought in me had my Dad done that.
Unfortunately, I passed my phobia down.  Daughters and I sat and forced ourselves to watch "Killer Klowns from Outer Space" and things like that in an attempt to get over it. Didn't help. Sorta backfired, in fact.
Now, oddly, people in "suits," like at Chucky Cheese, I adore. (One of the best experiences of my life was taking my kids to Chucky Cheese when they were little. The person inside the big mouse suit was a close personal friend...and they got the full "fuss over by a big mouse" treatement.  ) |
My kids had a pretty good handle on when Dad was playing and when he wasn't, and they knew that the rules for when Dad was playing were different. They gave, even as little kids, as good as they got.
Example when they were 12, 8, 7: two cute little blonde girls explaining that the reason that the brunette "baby" sister didn't come back from the school bus with them was that she was in police custody for beating up a boy on the bus. Little sister shows up four minutes after the older two, in the custody of a police officer all right, ligths going. Of course, the officer was a friend of mine and her mothers who had promised her a ride in her car ...