Being Dead Shouldn’t Have to Be a Drag

As summer draws to a close, I’ve been thinking about what we can do as one big good-bye party. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not a fan of big vacation trips: too much stress, too much work, too many strangers with shotguns everywhere we go. Fortunately, my part of the country is teeming with outings and activities. Unfortunately not all of them are undead-friendly.

Children’s museums can be fun—plenty of space to play, plenty of interesting and educational activities. But misunderstandings abound. The last time we went, a breather child mistook my son for part of the Human Body exhibit and tried to dissect him. In turn, my son mistook the other child for part of the snack bar. But at least the trip was educational. I now know what it feels like to get blasted by a fire extinguisher.

Amusement parks are great fun, except for two things. First, the prices. Why am I paying twelve dollars for a kiddie meal? I don’t think it was even made with real kiddie. I once heard a rumor that someone once found a severed finger in their meal. If it’s true, then we got ripped off. There was nothing in mine but over-processed chicken and French fries.

Secondly, the rollercoasters need to come with more warnings. The sign says that you should secure jewelry and eyeglasses, but it says nothing about fingers, noses, or ears. We never did find my daughter’s pinkie ring, or her pinkie. The signs also warn away people with heart conditions and back pain. It says nothing about people whose heads were once severed and then re-attached. If my husband ever gets on another roller coaster, heads are really going to roll.

I say that we zombies need to band together and build our own amusement parks and play areas. Places we can go where we can get a good-quality kiddie meal at a decent price. Where kids can play freely and nobody freaks out or calls the CDC. We need rollercoasters with reinforced safety harnesses and complimentary lockers for the securing of loose body parts. A place where nobody screams, runs away, pulls the fire alarm, draws an axe, or says, “I thought the Halloween parade wasn’t until October.

Who’s with me?

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