EDITOR’S NOTE: All this week we’re featuring some of our most terrifying stories. First up, Christine!
About ten years ago, on an otherwise normal evening, Barney the dinosaur talked to me.
No, I am not crazy.
I mean, I am crazy. But there are two types of crazy.
There’s the Martin, “Girl, you so crazy,” type of crazy and then there’s the crazy where you microwave bunny rabbits. I am not the latter.
At the age of 25, I was six years into a career of childhood education. I started as a job in high school and it continued from there. Being the resident child expert of my friends, I was the one to go to when you needed advice or help.
Because of my “expertise” and willingness to help, Barney the dinosaur spoke to me.
Here’s how it happened:
A good friend of mine, Sally*, was babysitting her…
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