Stupid Ol', Don Knotts.

For some reason that is so beyond me I cannot even imagine, I allowed Remi to be in the room the other night when we watched....get ready for the shock and awe...get ready to call Child Welfare services....get ready to leave me ugly, angry comments....a Don Knotts movie.

I know, I know. I'm a horrible, horrible mother. Next thing you know I'll be trying to give her ice cream.

But who knew that Don Knotts and Tim Conway could cause such a stir. My mom and dad and my 12 year old sister were in town and we decided a family movie was in order. (I would now like to lay total blame on my sister - it was her idea to watch it, after all. And if you can't lay blame on a 12 year old sister then what, my lovelies, is the point of having one?) So we popped in Private Eyes and got ready to be entertained.

I have seen Private Eyes half a dozen times since I was little and I still laugh out loud. What made me think Remi would? I think a sure sign that this was not going to go over should have been that there is a murder in the first scene. That's right. Lord and Lady Morley are killed in their car by a strange hand that comes from behind them and strangles them.

You're dialing right now, aren't you?

"But I didn't find it scary!" I told the Attorney General.
"YOU'RE 35!" He replied.

Guess he has a point. So we cut it off. I think we ended up watching Saw. Oh for heaven's sake, I'm kidding.

So now our world has been consumed by the terror she has toward....wait for it....TRUNKS.

That's right. My child cannot be scared of clowns, or horses, or pictures of Queen Elizabeth like all other normal children. No, she has to be scared of TRUNKS. Her fear is that (and I quote) "that hand will come and try to chop my neck and try and bonk my head and that hand will come from the trunk and that hand will bonk me and that hand will hurt momma and that hand will come from the trunk and that hand."

And now trunks are everywhere. They're in the car, they're in the bathroom, they're in the kitchen, they're in mommies closet. Trunks. Trunks? Can you believe this?

Stupid ol' Don Knotts (may he rest). Thank goodness I didn't let her see a scene where he plays Mr. Furley and wears those plaid shirts and polyester pants. She'd be scared to close her eyes for another year.