Today's the Day the Teddy Bears Have Their Picnic

When I was a kid, my mom bought me a bunch of tapes.  Most of them were geared towards building my self-esteem (because my mom failed to realize that was fine, it was my esteem for others that was lacking) but one of them was just a normal children's tape.  Regular kids' songs to sing along with in the car and that sort of thing.

That tape was the source of one of the great terrors of my formative years:  Track number six.  I always knew it was coming, lurking just beyond the ominous silence that followed the joyous sounds of The Hokey Pokey, but I was still never quite prepared for the disturbing falsetto or vaguely menacing lyrics of The Teddy Bear's Picnic.  I can't, for the life of me, figure out who thought that was a good idea to sing to children, but he or she is clearly a genius because scaring the shit out preschoolers is hilarious. 

The concept alone, toys that come to life, is creepy enough.  They're clearly up to no good, too.  Innocently intentioned teddy bears would not need to be so sneaky.  And the line about all the "marvelous things to eat and wonderful games to play," shortly followed by the outright threat, "It's lovely down in the woods today, but safer to stay at home," can only be interpreted one way:  The bears obviously consider hunting the children a fun activity prior to eating them.  Let's not overlook the creepy carnival music.  And the positively gleeful tone of someone who clearly wants to see stray kids massacred by Satan possessed balls of stuffing.  Then it's all nicely rounded out with jarring shifts between lighthearted frivolity and sinister warnings.  Awesome. 

I'm not even kidding, I'd lie in bed for hours, watching my stuffed animals for any sign of movement.  At one point, I started removing them from my bedroom before I fell asleep.  My mother, unaware of how terrified I was, would stumble across them in the hallway, assume I'd simply left them out, and bring them back in.  I'd wake to find them staring at me through glass eyes, no doubt waiting for just the right moment to tear open their mouth stitches and reveal row after row of needle sharp teeth.  No wonder I had so many childhood nightmares.

Apparently, it doesn't have the same effect on Pie.  We've been listening to that song on repeat for the entire week.  The theme of her drama camp is--you guessed it--Teddy Bear's Picnic.  And that is her favorite song out of the whole set.  (On a side note, she hates Bare Necessities.  Who the hell hates Bare Necessities?  There is something wrong with my child.)

Anyway, you'd think twenty-five years would be enough time to come to grips with this.  You'd be wrong.  Since starting her class, Pie's taken to sleeping with teddy bears.  Yes, that is supposed to be plural.  Yes Pie is still in my room.  Moving on.  The minute she's unresponsive to me poking her and asking, "You still up?" everything stuffed is cast straight into the hallway.  Because, you know, a hollow door is totally effective against Satan's minions when they finally do choose to make their presence known.  Still, it makes me feel better, at least until I wake up to pee and find them all right back in my bed.  My family seems to find scaring the shit out of me almost as hilarious as I find scaring the shit out of preschoolers. 

Her show is tomorrow, at some ungodly early hour.  Unrelated, but definitely worth mentioning, the program has been an amazing experience for her, and the instructors could not be more wonderful.  She also has a solo that she is insanely excited about and I'm so happy for her!  The whole thing is adorable beyond words and we'll definitely do it again.

But yeah, super early and I really do need to talk myself over that pile of bears in the hallway and back to bed.  If I never post again, it's because I've been dragged off to that torture chamber beneath the trees.  Don't come looking, it's safer to stay at home.

Wish us both luck!