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| No devil-worshiping kidnapper can capture this passcode protected kid. |
The reason that I was so afraid of being kidnaped and murdered by devil worshipers is that my mom told me that was what was going to happen if I was not careful. In the 80's there was a Satanic ritual abuse scare and my mom got right into the thick of it reading books and going to classes. She learned all about how children were abducted and abused or killed in satanic rituals. None of it was actually true, but that did not stop it from feeling true. The worst part is that she was telling us about it at every opportunity. You know? To keep us safe.
She went so far as to develop a secret honk to identify a potential ride as authorized by my parents and not the devil. We had a second level of protection in a passcode phrase that would identify, or just confuse, someone sent to pick us up in case of an emergency. The hypothetical situation my mother presented us was that of a stranger approaching us after school, telling us our parents had been in a car wreck and that they needed to take us to the hospital. This next part is the top of top secret so I tell you in the strictest faith that you yourself are not a devil worshiper or kidnapping pedophile; if you are, look away. I was in this moment of high stress supposed to question the credentials of my would-be assailants with this question:
I would say, “What is your name?”
If they were a full-on-devil-worshiping-kid-killer they would respond with their real name. If sent by my parents, the ones in intensive care because of the horrible accident, they would know to respond, “Pudin-Tain, ask me again and I'll tell you the same.”
I never got to use this method except in role-playing practice.
I was the only blonde in the family so my mom would sometimes take me aside to give me an extra word of warning. I needed to be extra careful walking to and from school or going out at night because Satanist wanted most of all to kidnap little blond kids. Thanks for the heads up mom, I'll just be crying to myself in the corner.
