This is not a belated Halloween post.

This is a how-to-terrify-your-kids-into-doing-what-you-want-them-to-do post.

My oldest understands that hot things burn you. He knows that burns hurt. Our issue is that he has never been burned, so his head knowledge is no match for that visceral, life experience knowledge.

The other day I took a pan of scones* out of the oven, and set it down on the stove top to cool. I turned my back just long enough to toss my hot pad back in the drawer, and when I turned back around my son’s face was about a millimeter from the lip of that oven fresh pan.

I gently, but firmly, say, “That’s really hot, please move back!” (Whatever – I screamed that sentence. I can’t lie to you.)

H looks at me, puzzled, and says, “I didn’t touch it. I just wanted to get a really good look at the scones.”

Technically he hasn’t done anything wrong. Technically. But I’ve been around 32 more years than this kid, and I know.

I know you could trip over your own feet and bump into a burning pan. Or forget your oven mitt and reach for a pan with your bare hand. Or suddenly sneeze dramatically, whack your forehead on the counter, and graze the edge of a hot pan.

These things happen to some people.

So I looked at H, and gently said (really – I didn’t scream this time), “I know. You didn’t do anything wrong, but you need to be very careful around hot things.”

He looked annoyed with all the mothering, leaving me no option but to scare him straight.

“You don’t have to touch a hot pan to get burned. If your face gets too close, it could melt off.”

I had his attention.

“Your face could melt into a big face-puddle on my kitchen floor, and your father and I would have to get on our hands and knees, frantically scooping your face-puddle into our hands, then run to the freezer and throw your liquefied face in there, hoping that we were fast enough.”

“Fast enough for what, mom?” He’s holding perfectly still as he asks this, a rare occurrence.

“Fast enough that we still have a chance of restoring your face to it’s original shape. Once we take it out of the freezer, we’ll have to reattach it to your head – don’t ask how, it’s not pretty – and just hope your face still looks like it used to. We’ll have to hope it still properly fits your head.

So don’t get too close to the stove or oven or hot pans or irons. We really don’t want your face to melt off. Okay?”

H is quiet (another rare occurrence) for about 22 seconds. And then he breaks into a grin.

“I know that’s not true, mom. My face can’t melt off!” And he laughs with great confidence.

I just shrug, grin and silently go back to my business. A few seconds later, he sighs.

“Okay, okay. I won’t get too close to the pan again.”

That’s what I thought, little man, that’s what I thought.

I wonder… Do you ever use scare tactics with your kids?

A note: No children were emotionally scarred in the making of this post. My son actually loves to be a little scared – he’s an adrenaline junkie. We’re always careful to reinforce that our crazy stories are made up, and he’s old enough to appreciate a little bit of scary make believe.

*So very domestic with my scone baking, yes? Don’t be too impressed: they were out of a can. But I did use the oven to bake the scones, so I call that homemade. And by they way, if you haven’t tried Immaculate Baking Co. products, you need to. They are all so good, and the scones are no exception. This is not a paid product endorsement. I just like you so much that I’m letting you in on one of my favorite products. But… Immaculate Baking Co., should you be reading, we should talk.