T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o


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Kids are Weird

2007-05-24    6:18 p.m.
I enjoy reading all of those stupid surveys posted in the MySpace bulletins. Occasionally I respond to one I either find particularly interesting or that at least amuses me beyond my stagnant level of workplace boredom. I’ve even written two -- both of which received good responses and comments in the subject line that said stuff like, “Finally a survey that isn’t retarded!”

The other day I was reading one, and there was a question that made me giggle because of what my response would be.

23. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child?

Typical kids would probably answer along the lines of “the boogeyman”. Those with fears and an obvious confusion about the location of their bedrooms not being in the jungle might even say that they feared snakes descending upon them.

Alas, I was not the typical kid.

From a very early age, I remember very vividly being afraid that Michael Jackson was in my room at night. Now before you shake your head and chalk this up to me being an absolute loon from the get-go, allow me to explain.

When I was little, Michael Jackson’s Thriller album was just being released. He did that really long video, and my babysitter stupidly let me watch it. She figured that since three-year-old me liked dancing to Michael Jackson, I’d not mind his metamorphosis into a wolf that chased his girlfriend.

She was wrong.

From that point on, when I was put to bed at night, I’d lie as still as I could muster and keep my breathing shallow to try to fool the imaginary Michael Jackson who would come into my room that I was dead.

And why was it important that I was dead? Michael Jackson wasn’t coming into my room for the sole sake of scaring me, no siree! Michael Jackson was sneaking in to harvest my organs.

I figured that if I was dead, my organs were of no use to him and that he’d either leave me alone or take only minor ones. What’s a missing spleen in the realm of things?

So the next time you’re looking at your three-year-old niece, nephew, son, or daughter and thinking, "Aww, my sweet little baby," remember that you really never know what sorts of crazy things he or she is thinking.

Miss something?

Moving Day - 2008-02-15
Working from Home is Glorious - 2008-02-13
Speaking in Tongues - 2008-02-07
I Have My Reasons - 2008-01-25
Got an Itch, Fix it, Shine it Up, Sing it Out - 2008-01-23

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