Carnivals, and I guess carnival-esque atmospheres, just aren't her bag. We've had a number of bad run-ins with those clown water balloon squirt games at county fairs. Their loud bells and balloon pops send her over the edge. Oh, and she doesn't like loud bells either, now that I mention it. There's a sound art piece by Stephen Vitiello on the Highline called A Bell for Every Minute (with each bell sound recorded somewhere in the city - bike bells, church bells, etc). It's under an overpass and the first time we went under it she cowered and asked me to pick her up. When we approached it coming back she took matters into her own hands -- took off like a SHOT and sprinted really fast to the other side. I really, truly have never seen her move that way.
But me saying anything about irrational fears would be the pot calling the kettle black since as I recall as a kid I was scared of a fallen tree at my grandparents' lake cabin, Guy Smiley, the part at the end of the song "Air" on the Hair soundtrack where everyone starts coughing, and one of my dad's Samsonite suitcases. (It had a funny toxic smell. I think I was on to something.) And anyhow, a lot of people would probably argue that a fear of Chuck E. Cheese can be healthy. (That said, I wish I could have gotten her to stay, since I think once she tried a couple of the quarter kiddie rides -- the exact same ones she loves to do outside the stores on Court St -- she would have had a blast.)
As a side note, this morning when I put on one of her fave episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba she waved me off, telling me, "I'm a little over this Yo Gabba Gabba." Also healthy, I guess.
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