Trauma

I had a flashback from childhood this afternoon. It might be considered post-traumatic.

When I was either in my preschool or early elementary years, my family went to some amusement park or other. It might have been Six Flags, it might have been Disneyland. There was no Disney World, so we can mark that one off the list of possibilities. We went on a river ride, I recall. It started out serenely enough. Around this bend, around that meander, slowly, calmly, row, rowing the boat.

But suddenly, there were people to be seen along the river banks. Pirates! Pirates!! PIRATES!!!
(My mother once mentioned that I had an overactive imagination as a child...)

And then the cannons on the banks of the river began taking aim. Firing cannonballs at us! Into the river they splashed!

I was an innocent child! Why were the pirates yelling at us and shooting cannons at our boat?

And then the crocodiles in the river began opening their mouths as wide as they could, to eat me up!!

And why was everyone else on our boat so calm, I wondered as I shrieked and cried for mercy from the pirates. (I think my mother used the term hysterical when we once reminisced over this experience...)

I don't think I was an overly fearful young child, but the pirate/cannonball/croc combo certainly did lay the groundwork for some unabiding fears in my wee head...