I don't do Disney

My bloggy challenge for Monday was to revisit the trauma inflicted upon my young psyche by a bad movie experience.

Let's set the stage shall we.

I am 4 or 5. My mother wants to treat me to my first movie experience and is delighted to learn that Bambi, is coming to our local movie theater.

Ah joy, ahh bliss. What could be better than cute little forest animals romping through beautifully mastered forests and glades with the signature Disney touch.

You know where this is going.

Obviously, my mother did not know then, what we all know now....that is, there is a very dark side to Disney. His "ouevre" had not been in development long enough for this key factoid to surface.

So clutching my mother's hand and settling into a big plush velvet seat with a big buttery calorie laden bowl of popcorn (a moment please...for the sweet memories of my 4 year old metabolism)we prepare ourselves to embrace the "Magic of Disney"

Needless to say the magic was short lived, since anyone who has ever seen Bambi knows that the mother is killed within the first 10 minutes of the film.

I will never forget the sheer terror I felt when I heard Bambi's mother crying for him to "Run...Bambi, run" and then

the gunshot

I dumped the bucket of popcorn on the patron in front of me and ran screaming and crying from the theater...my mother hot on my trail.

And can I tell you.

I STILL have never seen the rest of the movie.

Never have

NEVER will.

Nope not a big fan of the Mouse in this House.