Haunted houses, whaddya think? Exciting adrenaline rush? Or terrifying torture? I’m not the biggest fan, because I have a hard time stomaching gore and carnage, and I’m not a thrill seeker. I can pass on haunted houses and not feel like I’m missing out on anything. But, of course, I have a story or two.
When my son Will was in elementary school, he won the ultimate prize package—a trip to the haunted house. He was not particularly savvy at fundraiser sales, but the dangling prize lit a fire under him, and he sold wrapping paper like no tomorrow. As one of the top sellers in his grade, he landed the prize—a limousine ride to a burger joint for dinner, followed by a haunted house. I was lucky enough to tag along as a chaperone. Spirits were high in the limousine as the dozen or so kids headed out on the adventure.
At the haunted house, I was assigned a handful of boys to oversee as we made our way through the building. The first order of business, at their request, was to get glow rings, which when worn, notified the crew to go easy on them. It was a signal that these boys were not up for the full-on terror. Apparently, the crew didn’t pay much attention to the rings. Despite the fact that my 5 boys held out their fists moving their ring signals in all directions, cautiously stepping and wincing around every turn, the ghouls, monsters, bloodied creatures, and caped attackers swooped down from everywhere, surrounding my boys, and invading their personal space. My son Will was scared, but in a positive way. Several of the other boys were scared in a negative way.
About halfway through the haunted house, 2 of the boys were crying and pleading with me to make it stop. My motherly instincts took over, and I hunted down a hooded demon, insisted that he stop the nonsense and get us out of there. He nodded slowly, then led us through an escape hatch, behind curtains, down a passageway, and then through a door to the outside. In the parking lot, characters with chain saws jumped out and chased people here and there, but the boys were fine, because they were no longer trapped. Tears turned into laughs as they recounted the scares and surprises from inside.
There was another time I took kids on a haunted adventure, girls from my Girl Scout troop. We visited the nearby corn maze for daytime fun. Fun is a word I use loosely. I soon realized that mazes are not my thing, because of claustrophobia and things like that. All I really wanted to do was just get out of the confusing corn trap. The fact that 2 of the girls I was overseeing had a sudden urge to use the bathroom did not make it any easier. With no hope of making it through the maze, we did our best to retrace our steps and go back out the entrance where we quickly located the bathroom, just in time.
The real fun came as night fell. We did not pay the extra money to go through the nighttime haunted version of the maze, partially because it was more costly, and partially because several of the girls were not comfortable about the horror of it. But, we hung around to take a hayride in the dark around the farm. As we waited to board the hayride, we realized that we were standing in the gathering place for the ghouls and scary characters who were about to invade the maze. Up close, while they were strategizing and socializing, the actors were not scary at all. We talked with them, examining their makeup and the knives protruding from their bodies. We took pictures with them, and really enjoyed getting up close and personal.
When the ‘Ready, Set, Go’ announcement was made, we watched them tear off into various positions around the maze. Then, when we boarded the hayride, we rode around the outskirts of the maze, watching the actors work their magic as they jumped in and out of the maze, eliciting screams and shouts of terror as they surprised the maze-goers. We had a front row seat to the goings on, and it was a lot of fun to watch.
In both of my stories, I had a mixed group of kids—those who loved the shock and scary nature, and wanted more, more, more; and those who had had enough after a few minutes. I always erred on the side of caution, to protect the ones who didn’t think they could handle the full onslaught of haunting. I know that left the adrenaline junkies a little disappointed, but I figured they could try for more terror later. I didn’t want me or another parent to deal with nightmares and anxieties from the more delicate ones. I tend to be one of the delicate ones. I’m known for skipping the gore whenever possible. Also, I don’t need to be surprised, unless it’s a surprise with a good vibe, like finding an unexpected $20 bill in my pocket.
What about you? Do you love haunted houses? If so, I appreciate your enthusiasm; but, I go for the more lighthearted scare. Join in with me now, let's chant:
Come on In, Take off your Skin, and Rattle around in your Bones!
Come on In, Take off your Skin, and Rattle around in your Bones!
Come on In, Take off your Skin, and Rattle around in your Bones!!!