A little while ago I was vacuuming in the basement. Natalie was playing with her teddy bear, pushing it around in her baby doll stroller.
About a month ago she developed a slight fear of the vacuum cleaner when she accidentally turned it on herself. It freaked her out and she screamed bloody murder the rest of the time I was vacuuming. It has since progressed to a sudden startle and a mad dash in the opposite direction whenever the vacuum is started up.
I had vacuumed Easton's room, the hallway, and Natalie's room, and was working on the family room. Each time I stopped and started the vacuum (because I'm one of those freaks who moves all the furniture every time) Natalie would give a little jump, drop whatever she was holding, and go tearing out of the room.
So she's in the living room, playing with Teddy, and I start up the vacuum. She drops Teddy and books it to the other side of the room, since I'm blocking her exit. But, she is brave. She sees Teddy, lying there so innocent and helpless, about to be attacked by that evil vacuum monster. So, eying the fearsome beast every step of the way, she slinks up to Teddy, grabs him by the arm, and goes scurrying out of the room, still keeping a close watch on the attacker.
She won't leave a man behind, that one. My daughter is brave.