There is not much that strikes terror in my heart. A lion and antelope fighting to the death? Yawn.
Jumping out of an airplane with a parachute and a prayer? Sign me up.
Yet, a week-old baby can send chills through my bones. I wasn’t sure from where my irrational fear stemmed until I googled it. Apparently other (totally sane) people share the same (completely rational) fear of small children as me. And they are really convinced that babies are rising up to start the zombie apocalypse. Or that drug addicts are snorting babies. Regardless, I plan on barring the doors and filling all the bathtubs with water.
Now I’m afraid to go to sleep in fear that a coked out undead baby will crawl out from under my bed with a shank. Please save me from myself. And babies. Mostly the babies. They are coming for me.
Yes, this baby is wearing a TARDIS cocoon with “Police Box” stenciled on his head. Mostly because if he’s going to shank me slash eat my brains he’s going to do it while making a bold fashion statement. You have to have priorities.
P.S. While you may not notice the immediate parallels between Thor and a zombie please examine the diagram below to see the startling similarities. I’m lucky I got out of there with all of my appendages.