The only thing we have to fear...

For those of you keeping score at home, Samson has found a new thing to be afraid of.

In addition to religious icons and birdhouses [did I mention he's afraid of birdhouses?], he's also afraid of mannequins.

Especially the ones with no heads in the children's section of Old Navy.

To be perfectly honest, I think he's got a point. It's pretty creepy to see a headless, toddler-sized humanoid in overalls and a ringer tee. In an action pose, no less.

[Sidenote: as a kid of 11 or 12, I was obsessed with "rearranging" the mannequins on those seemingly interminable trips to J.C. Penney with my family. While my parents browsed for school clothes for me and my sister, I switched hands, pulled wigs, etc. Which leads me, today, to question what kind of security that store had, since I was never caught. And for some reason, a bald, left/right-switched mannequin, arms akimbo, still kind of cracks me up.]

As with Samson's other fears, this one poses no particular life-altering threat. I mean, it sort of complicates the obvious, liberal arts degree-retail fallback option (a proud legacy both his parents carried on during and after college).

And I'd bet his mother, as a dyed-in-the-wool Andrew McCarthy fan is probably a little sad. [Sorry, Vicki, your secret is out.]

But I think, otherwise, he'll be just fine.