Ghosty

Why is it frightening to encounter your own child in your own house? I was brushing my teeth last night, when I looked into the mirror and saw a child in a gown clutching a small, ragged stuffed animal. I didn't quite pass out from fright, but almost. Of course it was my own daughter standing there in the full light of our bathroom wearing her Disney princess pajamas. So why did she give me a heart attack? I know her well, she lives in my house. I see her everyday and can expect so see her about the house at any given time. Why would I practially choke on my tooth brush and simultaneously spew tooth paste into the sink? I suppose it could be because at that particular late hour, I assume that Zoe is fast asleep in her own bed where I tucked her in hours ago. To see her suddenly appear without a sound right beside me is understandibly startling. So why do I never get used to it? I'll be just nodding off in bed and hear a cry from upstairs. I reflexively throw off the covers, trot up the steps, turn the corner and - Yikes! She's standing in the middle of the hallway clutching her lovey and wearing her little nightgown. Why does my own adorable daughter appear to me - instead - as a ghostly apparition from the mysterious past? I was actually on my way up for the express purpose of seeing her and comforting her, yet encountering her in the hallway is more like an ambush than a reunion. She's my own offspring, not the undead - so why does my heart skip a beat while I suck in my breath out of fright? I just can't explain it. The rational mind knows that a three-year-old could conceivably be nearly anywhere in the house at any given time. Nonetheless, there's something about encountering a child after dark - even if she's your own - in a nightgown holding her blanky. She goes from precious to horrific with no effort at all. She obviously, knows something I don't. Meanwhile, anytime I sneak up on her, she simply stares at me, completely unphased - as if to say "what are you doing?"