We have a ghost in the house, at least I think so. There have been enough mysterious goings on to trigger earnest suspicion of paranormal activity.
This otherworldly visitor possess a unique trait: Clearly identifiable taste in music. I know this because three times now, single CDs have vanished from their designated jewel cases. First one I wrote off the absent-mindedness that become excusable after 55. But then there was another one. Then a third. All Dead, all live.
I haven’t mentioned these incidents to my daughter, because she is 6 years old and scares easily.
This became apparent when she started waking up at night and crying — which was a rare occurrence when she was younger. What was wrong? We’d ask.
“It’s the Bogs,” she sniffled. “They’re trying to get me.”
Let me step in here with a quick defense of our parenting. We’ve been protective — overprotective — about exposing our daughter to violence and violent influences. She watches two TV channels: Qubo and WHYY. Our collections of DVDs and VHS tapes (you heard that right) range from classics to the inane. There are two that come to mind, though, as treading near the edge: Sleeping Beauty and the Wizard of Oz. There are colorfully evil witches, but no good guys are hurt and the malevolent characters meet just ends.
Oz even has a good witch, Glinda.
Oddly enough, Sleeping Beauty’s Maleficent has become one of her favorite characters. Not that scary, I guess.
When I was a kid, it was always those Flying Monkeys in Oz that gave me the shivers, especially when they attack Dorothy and her friends. Mean ole monkeys.
I’ve wandered off point again (as usual).
Back to the Bogs.
Daughter was allowed to play on the Wii game system, which belongs to Mom.
(The last time I claimed any video game proficiency was when the 8-bit Nintendo system was popular.)
Wii’s pretty harmless, we figured. She and her mother played tennis, bowled and ran races. We limited her time on the Wii and made sure there always was a parent within earshot.
(Note: She has become fond of playing games on the computer. But these are approved school-style and assorted “make learning fun”” sites. OK, she’s also allowed to hit Barbie and Polly Pockets sites occasionally, as well.)
Somehow, we acquired a Dora Wii game, and then a Disney game.
When your daughter sits on the floor in front of the TV and pops in a game titled, Disney Princess: Enchanted Journey, you feel pretty secure that your dealing with strictly G material.
She was fine the first couple of times she played.
Quick synopsis: The Princess is trying to get to a castle, and must navigate small village populated by uncooperative citizens — and Evil Bogs that appear out of nowhere.
I can’t quite describe their appearance (miniature Jabba the Hutts?) but you need to use your Magic Wand to turn the Evil Bogs into butterflies. As far as I could tell, these Bogs didn’t inflict damage on the Princess/player.
It was these Bogs that were appearing in her dreams — not so Enchanted, as it was. We had to retire the Disney game for a while, and the Wii as a whole.
Eventually, she returned to battle the Bogs but she had lost interest in the game in the meantime.
Hmmm. The Bogs. That must be it — they share my taste in music and needed something to listen to while hibernating. It was as good any other theory about the mystery of the missing discs.
Think I’ll sleep on it.
olderdadyoungerchild 