As mentioned in the previous blog, I took Hannah to Bloomsbury Farm’s haunted cornfield, Scream Acres. This was supposed to be a treat for her since she babysat Mary and her friend Shannon for me. She really wanted to do this. Really.
Well, we got there and stood in line. Not bad – we knew the people in front of us and became acquainted with the people behind us. They let us go through the haunted barn (very mild, no human haunters) and they saved our place in line since the line wasn’t moving. And the weather was mild, so standing outside was actually pleasant. Finally, we got to the front of the line. Hannah and I were put in a group with the people behind us, and off into the cornfield we went.
Now, I like haunted houses. The scarier, the better, and this one was fabulous. However, it terrified Hannah, the poor kid. The first time someone jumped out at her she ran to me for protection, and by the time we left I had both arms around her and I was half carrying her. This is significant in the fact that Hannah is mildly autistic and doesn’t like to be touched. In this case, though, she figured it was better to have Mom holding her than to be approached by a guy in a mask holding a running (but chainless) chain saw. The noise really set her off. I don’t think she realized that the actors weren’t allowed to touch her, but sometimes they got too close. They were very understanding, though, when I told them Hannah was autistic. They backed right off, usually with one hand in the air signifying retreat. But it was a great haunted cornfield, really well done. It was so good that my maternal protective instincts kicked in and at a couple points I considered decking one or two of the actors.
Anyway. Once we finished the maze (the haunted field was a maze…a really long maze, which added to its fabulousity) we went to the concession stand. Hannah said her throat hurt from screaming, and she needed a drink. So I bought her a bottle of water and some popcorn, and we sat and recovered. One nice thing she said – she appreciated my Mom reaction and the way I protected her. Usually, when I ask Hannah if she’s OK (she’s been coughing or she looks sick or upset or something) she snaps at me and says I’m over-reacting. This time she was grateful.
So after our snack, we went home and told Dad and Mary all about it. Mary was mad that she didn’t get to go, but I reassured her that if she had gone she’d have been reduced to a sobbing ball of fourth grader and would have had to be carried out of the maze by her Dad. But I want to go back to the maze this weekend with Carl. We haven’t gone to a haunted anything in years (at least, not together) and I really want him to experience this. I think I can get Hannah to babysit.
I wonder if this time she’ll ask for “payment”.