Until we let the scary clown scream.

Beatrice has such a mellow disposition. She plays well by herself, with other kids, with other adults, with small woodland animals -- she's an all around honey and butter on the table sitting in the soft light of the sun's morning glory.

Until we let the scary clown scream.

If you haven't seen it, there's a Walmart commercial with a clown at a kids' party who steps on a toy unicorn and screams, scaring the children and scattering them while the mom's sit calmly acknowledging the disaster.

Both Mama and I knew what would come to pass, and we simultaneously thought "mute" and/or "change channel" - but the thought didn't fire quickly enough down the arms to hands to remote.

Bea collapsed in a wailing heap of tortured misery. Recovery time took at least 10-15 minutes.

Turn off the TV and read books to her you say? Screw reading -- there's too much stuff to watch on TV! Plus, scary clowns build character, right?

[Tongue in cheek, you know. We love our little Bea...and TV. Oh yes, and books.]

Mercy, there's the toy clown from Poltergeist, Pennywise the clown from Stephen King's It, Flunky the Clown from Letterman, the Walmart clown, and so many more unspeakable horrors since (including the wooden puppet cow flying over the moon in one of the Baby Einstein DVD's).

It's a wonder kids still love the circus and crazy clowns piling into and spilling out from a tiny clown car.

Now, if we could only bring back the Town Clown from back in my day when childhood was all around honey and butter on the table sitting in the soft light of the sun's morning glory...