The yard out front was littered with small trikes and toy cars and plastic animals and candy wrappers (which the children are NOT allowed to eat, even on Halloween).
Coats hung in the cubbies, name-calling and tattle-taling were not tolerated, nap time was at noon, and no, Ricky, you cannot have Lauren’s milk carton at snack time.
The only differences, really, were the families, and well, their… lifestyles.
Miss Molly’s Daycare for the Damned catered to a very unusual clientele.
Specifically, the undead.
True, Molly was living, while the children and their parents were dead, which posed a few challenges, naturally. But nothing insurmountable.
The children grew restless and bloodthirsty around snacktime, but what child didn’t? Molly merely wore long-sleeves and anyone trying to gnaw on her limbs was sent to time-out. The undead children weren’t allowed in all the parks that living children played in, which made Molly sad. After all, it wasn’t their fault, the poor dears. No one chose to be undead, now did they?
Oddly enough, the daycare happened to be something that Molly was quite proud of. When it became clear that the undead filling the streets were less…uncivilized…than once thought, Molly saw a rather lucrative business opportunity. Zombie parents sent their little ones to Molly to teach them to blend in, to co-exist with the living. Quite progressive, really, by most undead standards. By living standards even! You don’t see many living parents sending their children to undead day care centers, now, do you?
Just misunderstood, the poor dears. Ricky! That is NOT your milk carton, and you may NOT have Lauren’s arm for snack!