Bring In The Clowns

Clowns. You either love them or hate them. I am in the latter group. They scare me. I find something eerie about the make up. Almost macabre. People dressed up in painted faces with outlandish clothes and hair. Whenever I went to a circus, their segment was my least favorite part. I never understood why people find them so funny. My parents live next door to clowns. All throughout their apartment, are clowns. Clown statues, clown pictures, clown brick-a-brac. All things clown. Then there is the room that has pictures of them dressed as clowns. Each year when I visit my parents, the trip starts off with the neighbors welcoming me in their clown suits. This is usually accompanied by a few songs played on the harmonica. I have to stand there and pretend that I love it. I smile and applaud. I am then safe until it is time to go back home. Out come the new costumes and wigs and the parting harmonica songs. One year, when it was my sons' birthday we had an extra show with a hat with birthday candles. I have a picture of that one. They are such nice people and they are doing this with the best of intentions. They are 90 years old and I can never let them know about my aversion to clowns.