I eventually got over my fear of mud puddles, at least the ones that weren't deep. The reason I avoid them now is because I don't want to get my socks and feet wet, not because I'm afraid of getting sucked down underneath the ground and suffocating.Well, in terms of "scaring children straight", I think they succeeded.
Actually, there was one year in the theatre when I deliberately jumped in a mud puddle. We were doing "West Side Story" and one of the scenes involved a song that used stuff found in a garbage can. Since I was the head of the props department on that show, it was up to me to find or make this stuff.
One of the objects was supposed to be an umbrella. So I went out and bought the plainest black umbrella I could find, and took it to the theatre. This thing had to look decrepit enough to throw out, so my assistant and I just attacked it - we cut holes in it, bent the ribs out of shape (broke some off), and then took it to the assistant director for approval.
He considered it, then bent it over his knee and was satisfied. I put the finishing touch on it by taking it out to the parking lot and finding a mud puddle (it had rained earlier in the day). I threw the umbrella into the puddle and proceeded to jump up and down on it (cathartic, because that show was really stressful to work on). I remember one of the production crew asking the director, "What is she doing?" and the director told her, "Oh, she's just getting the umbrella ready for the Officer Krupke scene."
So yeah, mud puddles have definitely had an influence on my life, both bad and good.

I'm talking about the 1960s, and me finding this stuff in the children's section of the public library. There was a whole shelf full of fairy tale books.Because childhood was quite different at the time. Remember that having eight-year-olds working in factories or as powder monkeys was not frowned upon in the least. This thing of extending childhood and a semi-childhood until you're almost 20 is quite modern.
Or maybe it was just my imagination. I remember having a nightmare about Snow White when I was 8. In the dream I was riding in my dad's white Toyota car and we went waaay off course and got stuck in the really narrow winding stairway of the Wicked Queen's castle. She was coming to get us and I couldn't get the door open to escape.