We were in our apartment located directly over the Hellmouth when Alex started to head towards the closet.
I panicked even though there was nothing in there. I paused to go over my Mental Mom Check List (MMCL) with regard to the closet he was scoping out.
Was there a loose electrical cord? No.
Sharp objects? No.
Choking hazard? No.
A lion and a witch?
Ah, yes, it seems that the way Alex had peered curiously into the closet, slowly inching through its doorway had reminded me of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. I was quite literally and honestly afraid that he was going to disappear right before my eyes into a land of fawns and Jesus-lions.
And the worst part? I hadn’t even realized that was what I was afraid of when it started.
You thought the worst part was that I was afraid of it to begin with, didn’t you?
Well, you’re wrong. It’s not knowing you’re afraid of something but still panicking when you think it might happen that is the worst. Because you know you’re afraid, for a reason, but you don’t know what it is or if it is insane.
For the record: I have lots of insane fears.
I am afraid that snakes will crawl out of vents or drains (Note: please, please God do not reinforce this fear by telling me about a time that happened to you/a loved one/someone on TV.)
I am afraid that when I look at the window in the middle of the night while everyone is sleeping, there will be a vampire floating there a la David Arquette in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
I am afraid that when I eat soup, a singing, dancing alien will burst forth from my stomach.
But then, I grew up in a house where my dad locked the cars in the locked garage. He piled crap in front of the side door, which was locked and nailed shut, so it couldn’t be wedged open. And he hung all our gardening tools over the windows so that people couldn’t shimmy through them.
Couple that with an overactive imagination and a lot of TV.
So, yeah, I have no idea where these insane fears come from.