Your odd childhood fears

If it's movie scenes, I was not prepared as a 10-year-old for the ending to the remake of Invasion Of The Body Snatchers ...



Scared me shitless well into adolescence.

This scares me shitless to the present day ...

 

For a few years, thanks to an episode of "Night Gallery" with Roddy McDowell, landscape paintings.

 

Paralyzing fear of vomit. I can recall pretty clearly one kid blowing chow during a game of Duck, Duck, Goose, right there into the circle. I went home that day, too.

 

Aside from loud noises, I was afraid of mannequins, especially the silver ones.

My grandfather used to drag me past them and it just freaked me out. I guess I thought they were going to come alive. And that was before seeing the Twilight Zone episode about them.

Oh, and the preview for the move Magic, with the dummy, sacred the hell out of me when it came out. I had to leave the room.

 

I had the exact same problem. I don't have the fear anymore, but I remember it each time I get on an escalator.

 

Other than my obvious fear (Slappy, et al, I'll kill you if you post a pic again) ... :

My other odd fear as a child was, umm, medical procedures -- blood, incisions, surgeries, births, etc. That stemmed from my sister watching all those Rescue 911 episodes (and similar shows like it) when we were kids. I had to leave the room. It made my stomach queasy to see people opened up and to see all the gunk and goo and, especially, blood come out of their bodies. Back in those days, there weren't all these TLC shows set in hospitals, either. It was just a couple relatively tame ones with mostly re-enactments. But I still can't watch any of those types of shows.

My sister, of course, went on to become a nurse and works nights in the ER these days. Doesn't faze her a bit.

 

Incisions make me sick to the present. The blood itself doesn't bother me a bit, it's the idea of the cutting.

 

The basement at my grandparents' house. Hated going down there for anything.

 

My parents had a wooden African mask carving, painted all black, which they hung in their hallway. The face on the mask looked like the guy was in pain, for some reason.

I used to be scared to go into the hallway with the mask there. My mom finally convinced me to by giving the mask the name, 'Silly Face'.

When my parents bought their house when I was five, the mask moved with us, only it put down in the basement, where it still hangs today.

 

Bob thinks this was a documentary.

 

Nail polish.

My sister and I had a relief babysitter who would occasionally spell our regular sitter who was a wonderful, grandmotherly woman. The spare was an older gal as well but she always wore sparkly silver nail polish and it scared the hell out of me. I wasn't in school yet and this was in the late 1950's when nailpolish wasn't commonly worn. No woman I knew at that tender age ever had it on so I didn't have a clue what it was and I thought there was something wrong with her. Everytime she reached out to touch me I started crying and when she tried to comfort me by picking me up I cried harder. Needless to say I spent a lot of time in my bed having a 'little lay down' and was always delighted when our regular sitter came back.