When Playtime Turns to TERROR TIME!

It should have come as no surprise when, as I was growing up, I developed a great affection for horror movies and roller coasters. The warning signs that I had a bit of a fear fetish were everywhere - perhaps most notably, though, in one of my favorite childhood games.

I have no idea how my mother and I discovered this game, but I feel I should preface this story by mentioning that my mother is a very nice woman who worked at a church while I was growing up. She encouraged my sister and I to be kind, thoughtful people and she got us involved in volunteer work at a young age.

To the best of my knowledge, she never expressed a desire to torture me or turn me into a serial killer.

Got it? Okay. The game went like this: I would be standing in my playpen or crib, and my mother would pick up one of my stuffed animals. She would make it dance in front of me, merrily calling out playtime greetings. Then she would make it swoop in for a surprise ending.

Here's what it looked like from my point of view:

The last part of the game would result in me screaming in terror and then, after pulling myself together, begging my mother to do it again.