My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

They Might Be Zombies

I am constantly amazed by the inner workings of a child's mind. Particularly my own child's since it's the one I have the most access to. This morning, on the way to preschool, Dusty says, apropos of nothing:

"What if zombies are real?"

"I would be scared. I wouldn't want them to eat me."

"Well, but they're slow."

"Yeah," I replied, "But they are strong and never give up."

"But you could run into a house and lock the door."

Visions of "Night of the Living Dead" flash through my brain as I said,
"But they would keep smashing at the door and the windows until they got you." (Why, I suddenly wondered, am I saying this to a five-year old?)

"Oh. Are they dead?"

"Sort of. They're UN-dead."

"Do they know they're dead?"

"No. I think that's part of the problem." I am suddenly clearly aware of my lack of zombie knowledge. So, from here on out, I'm winging it.

"Are there kid zombies?"

"Yes, anyone who's eaten by a zombie becomes a zombie. Kind of like vampires. When they bite you, you turn into a vampire."

"No, don't talk about vampires. Just zombies. Vampires scare me. But not zombie.s"


"How do they become zombies?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe an evil spell."

"A spell? Like a curse? A witch's curse?"

"Yeah, like that."

"Maybe a witch owns all the zombies."

"That could be."

"How do zombies get out? Get you?"

"I think they live in their graves and something makes them suddenly come up."

"I'll tell you how. I saw it on a Scooby Doo episode [yes, she actually used the word 'episode']. Scooby and Shaggy and their friends were digging a hole and magic came out of the hole and then the zombies were there."

"Huh. How about that."

There is a moment of quiet reflection and then,

"How did the word 'zombie' come?"

"Hmm, well, I don't know. That's a good question."

We pass a speed-trap cop who is parked on the side of the road.

"Why is that police car there?"

"Waiting to catch speeders."

"Waiting to catch zombies!"


10:15 a.m. ::
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