Spending the night on the floor of a girl’s room is officially no longer as much fun as it was in college.

On Sunday, I took Anna to local park where there is a 1/4-mile railroad that occasionally features a restored steam locomotive. This particular weekend, they were also having a sort of festival featuring pioneer-era displays, teepees, and recurring, staged gunfights. We first noticed the gunplay, which involved the sheriff, various bad guys, and occasionally a pioneer woman, from about fifty feet away. Anna was curious for about five seconds before she developed an intense dislike for what was going on. As we turned away I explained how they were putting on a show, and when all the dead actors hopped up and took a bow, I pointed out that everyone was okay.

We had already ridden the steam train once, having purchased two tickets for each of us, so I figured the frontier gangstas¹ would be on break for a little while and now would be a good time to go. We barely missed the subsequent boarding and were first in line for the next train. Two laps later we boarded, and were therefore the furthest from the exit when they announced that our train would indeed be robbed at gunpoint. I explained the situation to Anna, but she didn’t want to get off. The train proceeded, and eventually we were robbed, but since everything happened outside the train, and we were not near a window, Anna did not see or hear much as I covered her ears until the show was over. Following the train ride, we walked to the sandwich shop to pick up lunch and head home.

I don’t remember Anna being affected at all by the morning’s events throughout the day, but in the middle of the night, she awoke crying, and when I went to see her it was clear that she was afraid of something. She didn’t explain it (she generally can’t when she’s very afraid), but I ended up sleeping the rest of the night in her room. In the morning she was whiny and clingy, up until we talked more about the gunfight, how it was just a show, that everyone was fine, and how people did not in fact do that “for real” (I wasn’t going to get into any more nuances of the issue than that). Instantly, she was chipper as could be, had a good day, and slept Monday and Tuesday night without incident.

Last night, she awoke to go to the bathroom, but found that the door was closed and the light was on (something she did herself earlier in the evening). This led to fear and crying and parental floor-sleeping. This morning was a little rough, and when I stopped by her school to see the Easter parade, she was very clingy, but hopefully a little talk tonight will clear things up. Failing that, the two of us may have to make a metal detector out of Legos.

¹ Frontier Gangstas would be an excellent name for a folk/hip-hop band.