When I was a kid, I was inadvertently allowed to watch some old horror movies on tv.
Well, it wasn’t even actual horror movies, it was some kind of documentary about horror movies, but in a few short minutes, I had WAY more information than any 7-year-old should have about an impending Attack of the Blob. I also had a sudden and deep-seated fear of Body Snatchers.
I became a little obsessed with the backs of peoples’ necks, because that is where the Body Snatchers leave their mark. I was particularly concerned with the necks of grownups, because frankly, they were awfully confusing to begin with and who knew if they had been bodysnatched, or if they were just being grumpy?
These new fears also manifested themselves in an elaborate bedtime routine. It began with a running leap from the doorway onto my bed, lest I touch down too close to the bed itself, thus exposing my tender flesh to any Blobs lurking underneath. I’m sure every kid is familiar with this manoeuver, although my bed was just a touch too far from the door. This resulted in any number of spectacular wipeouts, where I would slip and tumble to the floor, next to the bed, my wide eyes glimpsing the abyss for a split second before I scrambled upwards in a panic.
Once safely on the bed, I had a little routine with my duvet that guaranteed me safety while I slumbered.
It probably goes without saying that I always had to pee.