More Manatees and Porn. Is this a trend ??

[PornoDoggy]

I have a daughter who has a phobia about clowns.

When she was about twelve, I brought two clowns over to the table at Shoneys under the premise that it was her birthday (it wasn't - I lied).

She still mumbles about suing me to recover therapy costs every once in a while...

[MorganGrayson]

Originally Posted by PornoDoggy

I have a daughter who has a phobia about clowns.

When she was about twelve, I brought two clowns over to the table at Shoneys under the premise that it was her birthday (it wasn't - I lied).

She still mumbles about suing me to recover therapy costs every once in a while...

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. )

[sarettah]

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. )

Scared of clowns but you love big hairy rats..... Go figger.

You californians

[MorganGrayson]

Originally Posted by sarettah

Scared of clowns but you love big hairy rats..... Go figger.

You californians

NOW, you're in trouble!

I'll tolerate being called a *lot* of things (even the four letter female parts that seem to upset the hell out of a lot of people for reasons I don't totally understand...but I digress) but DO NOT call me a "Californian"!!!!!

I hate, loathe and despise this state. (Then why am I here? you may very well ask. My husband wanted to move here and I like the guy. ) But now...we are counting the days until we can move the hell out of here. It can't come soon enough. (It's actually way into the future.) But...even my husband has had it up to here with California.

[PornoDoggy]

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 ...

[MorganGrayson]

Originally Posted by PornoDoggy

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 ...

Your kids would have gotten along *great* with my kids.

Sadly, one of my biggest problems growing up was not getting my Dad's sense of humor. He popped around the corner wearing a gas mask once and I screamed and burst into tears. His reaction to that was fury...the implication that he'd do anything to hurt me made him lose it. However, I was too young - and unfortunately, too sensitive - to grasp that. So, I became doubly frightened during that incident.

When I got my finger stuck in a wiffle ball he examined it and said "we'll have to cut it off." He meant the wiffle ball, of course, as my finger had swollen and turned purple by my panicked attempts to yank it off. He didn't understand my hysteria and got my mother. When I managed to explain, still sobbing, that I'd thought he meant cut off my finger...I was in trouble with *both* parents.

That part of me as a child really sucked.