Scared Silly

Alex's birthday celebration tonight was pretty scary. First, Grandma and Rachel and a few friends came to the house for supper and cake. Then we took the whole party to Rawhide, and into a haunted house called Asylum. Mind you, the six girls with us tonight range from eight to eleven years.
Through practical experiment, we discovered that eight-, nine-, and ten-year-olds can handle no more than two minutes of such a frightful production, swiftly rising to an ear piercing crescendo of screaming, crying, and pleading for an exit. We stayed inside less than five minutes and saw less than half the exhibit before rushing outside to relative peace and safety in the old-west main street.
One of the girls stayed outside with Grandma, to which another girl said afterward, "She's a smart girl."
We walked around Rawhide for a short while, saw an arrest, an execution, and a headless horseman.
After taking everyone home, Alex, Evon and I watched the 1968 version of The Fly with Vincent Price.
I suppose that's what you get if you're birthday falls in October. I'll see what David thinks of that idea Sunday, as we celebrate his thirty-ninth.