When I was young, our family often watched reruns of The Twilight Zone. Black and white memories of commonplace scenes twisting through sometimes terrifying deviations floating through the time warp of a 43 year old mind- faces and images frozen in grief or compounding horror.
We are taught to think there is a firm line between fact and fiction. Life can teach us though, sometimes things we believe to be fiction are just facts we haven’t discovered for ourselves yet. Parents of children without risk assessment have a slow awakening realization that they are indeed “…traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of the mind.” (Rod Serling)
A dimension where everyday things become whip cracking ringmasters of fear.
Staples left out on the desk or table? No, that’s not chewing gum for most of us, but for a child without risk assessment that might be how they try to use it- Tony has. So many things that enhance life if handled safely when the risks are understood become everyday boogeymen. An exacting and sanity sabotaging level of environmental awareness is needed to prevent injury or death every single day in our home.
The facts in our house are that spooky days don’t just come once a year. We don’t need pretend monsters to menace…there are 365 days a year of very real things to fear.
And heavily delayed risk assessment means we get to idiomatically lather, rinse, and repeat for the same items, day after day, year after year. We don’t have any way of knowing how much our son’s ability to retain safety instructions will improve in time and how much will continue to trickle away every day. 365 days a year of things to fear.
Shaving razors, shampoos, lotions, soaps. Cleaning chemicals, scissors, and knives. Pencils, pens, chords left plugged in. Metal silverware. Ceiling fans in rooms with pillow top mattresses. Glue, tape dispensers, nail clippers, magnets. I want you to take a moment to think about all of the things laying around your house that shouldn’t ever be put in your mouth and fill in a whole bunch of extra blanks… to save you some reading and me some writing. 365 days a year of things to fear.
The world outside of our house is crowded with even more terrors, because I can’t lock things down in stores or other people’s homes. And locks only work if everyone remembers 100% of the time to put things away and use them. 365 days a year of things to fear.
Sometimes I think the marriage of poor impulse control with severely delayed risk assessment to acute powers of observation and diversion planning abilities is a nightmare inducing cocktail more potent than any witches’ brew. When everyday tools take you on a journey through year after year of 365 days of things to fear, you watch your peace of mind wither to shadows as your ability to relax gets sacrificed over and over. Any version of me that looked carefree died long ago, bled out in the face of so much required vigilance. It’s like being stuck in a replaying, potentially exit-less loop of a single verse from “Cry Little Sister,” with seemingly “…immortal fear, that voice so clear.”
If the facts of our world look like your fiction, you have no idea what you take for granted… Every. Single. Day. Rejoice, and don’t save up that gratitude to be felt for just another holiday that only comes once a year. Be thankful- every single day- if you’re not living with 365 days a year of things to fear.
