My daughter is my livelihood. She is my lifeline. Her heartbeat and mine are combined. And, if her electrocardiogram ever flatlined, so would mine. We are not two colored lines matched in perfect harmony. We are one seamless line that would revive and beep from my perseverance to survive.
[Warning: Not for the faint at heart and potential The Walking Dead spoilers.] As a mother, I watch The Walking Dead and wonder how I would keep my Babyface alive. Would I learn how to shoot a pistol, teach her and then set her straight in front of a moving, “walker” target to test her accuracy? Shooting cans to master accuracy could take a long time. And it wouldn’t prepare her for the harshness of taking a walker’s life. Not to mention, the noise from the pistol would bring on the walkers in groups, and I wouldn’t have the resources to take them down. Chomp, chomp, chomp. Not in our favor.
Would I teach her how to use a Katana and how to slice her hunter’s heads off? Where the heck would I find a Katana? It would take too long to search for the damn thing. Would I hand her a heavy rock and teach her to pummel the walker to the floor? We’re tiny people and the rock may not hit the walker in the head. Most of them are really tall. Too close for comfort, I say.
All valid questions, but in the zombie apocalypse, I will not have time. After all, I would have to find the weapon, teach myself how to use it and then educate her. Or I would have to find random, daily objects, like kitchen knives and risk myself (her protector) or, worse yet, risk her getting too close to a target.
Anywhere there are weapons or food, walkers will slide to, like pure, blood-detecting magnets. There is no rhyme or reason. They are everywhere in the world of The Walking Dead.
There’s a chance we could find a nice, solid prison somewhere. There’s a chance we could find a Rick Grimes, who would lead us to safety, but those chances are slim. Those chances are far and few from having our guts ravaged and splattered and then our brains picked by decayed teeth. I happen to like my guts and I want to keep them intact. I happen to LOVE my daughter’s guts and they BETTER stay intact.
I don’t want her to live and be aware of those few moments before she turns. Those walkers are always screaming in agony before the bloodless switch is flipped. I’ll do everything in my damn power to keep her from getting a bite or even a nail scratch by one of them.
So, I choose the obvious. I will find animal carcasses and cover myself, and Babyface, in the foul smelling splatter. Michonne, most recently, had it right. It’s like so-called vegetarian vampires do in Young Adult novels. Drink the blood of animals to survive. It’s survival of the fittest, and I will take animal carcasses and cover myself, and my daughter, to survive the walkers.
The Walking Dead is a comic book and a TV show. In it, mothers, brothers, fathers and sisters remain helpless with respect to their loved ones. I say, “Throw the damn, animal carcasses on your body! Throw them on your kid’s body! Find some Vicks VapoRub and slather it under your and your kid’s noses. Your Rick could go insane. Your Darryl could go rogue or regroup with his brother and point his bow ‘n’ arrow right back in your face.
Your kid is YOUR responsibility, and you’re tougher than they all are combined. You are a Mother. Your kid is lunch to those walkers. Your child needs you. Cover your kid in blood and guts to survive! Make it your fashion statement in your head, if it helps you. Carcass-Style covers for zombie protection circa 2012.
Why isn’t Rick’s baby covered in blood and guts constantly? What if they’re attacked? Are they going to throw the baby around like she’s a football, while they hack off the heads of the walkers? Not really. Find some recently dead animal carcass that you had to kill to SURVIVE and cover your baby in it. This is survival within the zombie apocalypse we’re talking about here. And you have a baby who has zero chance of protecting herself. Judith needs to stay human, Rick. Cover her in animal carcass. Carcass, blood-infested disease is the least of your worries. She already has zombie blood in her like everyone else. Just keep her alive.
I guess if the parents on the show did this, the show would fail to thrive and would be knocked out by AMC’s “cancel Katana”. I LOVE this show too much and prefer them to knock off the characters, as they grow stale, then to follow a parent’s rules for protection. But, as far as I’m concerned, this is what I’ll always scream at the TV, “Cover your babies and kids in carcasses, you idiots! It’s been proven to work! Get with the program!”