Last night, my husband and our neighbors built a 6 foot tall snowman. When I awoke at 6am with the kids and went to let the dog out, he freaked everyone out with his growling and barking. He actually thought the snowman was an intruder.
Nolan peered out the door to see why the dog was barking, then started screaming hysterically and crying while running away as fast as he could. He was terrified of this god damn snowman, convinced it was going to come after him.
All day long now, we’ve had to keep the curtains facing the back yard shut, because if Nolan so much as sees them open, he’ll start panicking about the snowman.
Bathroom trips have been fun too. He refuses to go upstairs alone because the snowman will get him. Bedtime is also going to be a joy.
Seriously. This snowman isn’t even 24 hours old and the second Archer wakes up from his nap (in daddy’s arms), I’m making Matt go outside to flatten it. I mean, it’s a bad ass snowman but it’s inadvertently driving me crazy. All day long there’s been a lot more whining and freaking out because the snowman. And he’s so scared of it that I can’t use it to my advantage (I.e. if you don’t eat ALL your dinner, THE SNOWMAN will come and get you!).
Sigh. Kids, man.