I am SO not a horror fan.
Horror movies have ensured that I will never relax in a bathroom with a shower curtain. Or a clown. Or a little boy doll with chubby cheeks. (Although, I must admit, I haven’t encountered either of the latter in my bathroom, I remain vigilant.) But what I didn’t realize was that horror is best served up from the most familiar, beloved places. Take being a grandmother—apparently we run equal chances of eating small children and getting eaten by big bad wolves.
I noticed this recently when looking for books and movies for my grandchildren. The years have really not been kind so some of them… Disney movies have messages that now make us cringe. (Beauty and the Beast: kidnapped girl falls for her captor, which causes him to turn into a rich handsome prince with better table manners and they live happily after…
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