I learned early how to be good at Therapy...

Four years old and at the movies with my Daddy. Days don't get any better than that. It was the brand new, uber advertised, Disney movie of the year. 101 Dalmations, opening day, and I was so excited I could hardly keep from throwing down my Rainbow Brite doll and sprinting in the theater. 

One teeny tiny problem.

 Cruella DeVille was FREAKIN scary. Not just creepy, or spooky. I was terrified to the point that we had to leave half way through the movie. I could NOT stop crying and thinking about those poor little puppies (and that hair).

Problem number two. 

Months afterward I was still appearing next to my Daddy's side of the bed in the middle of the night saying "Daddy......can we talk about Cruella?"