• Nov. 8, 2007
How high is your spookability quotient?
Everyone has a trait that others in the family just love to exploit. Mine is my spookability quotient. I am and always have been quite spookable. My spookability quotient is truly more than through the roof. My family just delights to no end in finding ways to sneak up behind me and make me scream. Scream, really? YES! SCREAM!! REALLY!!
It was proven to be an inborn characteristic in me yet again the other day. Danny came home earlier than I expected him. I neither heard him drive up the driveway in his loud Suburban nor walk in our s.q.u.e.a.k.y front door. And I didn't see him because I was vacuuming with my back to the front of the house. He walked in quite innocently and just said, "Hi guys." Normal tone of voice. I nearly jumped out of my skin and into the next room. You know the stereotypical woman who screams bloody murder and jumps up on the nearest chair (or countertop, or refrigerator) when she sees a mouse? Well, I am that woman. I am her and then some. I screamed. (Blood curdlingly.) I jumped. (White women can too jump! Quite high, I might add) The kids nearly died of laughter. I, totally and completely in my flight or fight mode, instantly burst into tears. What a great way for a man to be welcomed home after a hard day of work, right?
Sadly for me, but quite hysterically for the rest of my family, this is a fairly common occurrence in our house. And so, because today was quite uneventful here at home, but because I want to write something, I am going to record "an oldie, but goody" from years past.
Rachel was about 4 and Tara was only 2. They were all the kids we had at the time. They shared a bedroom. Rachel slept on a twin bed and Tara slept in a crib that had no side rail on it so she could get in and out by herself. It was the middle of the night. I woke up and felt a need to check on the little girls. Please know that this can be a big deal for me, as I still fear the monster that resides under the bed and reaches out to grab your feet when you get up in the middle of the night. But still, I felt inexplicably drawn to check on the girls so I determined I would not be afraid. I sat up, swung my legs out over the side of the bed and jumped as far as I could to keep the monster from being able to reach my ankles. So far, so good. I padded softly across the hall from my room to the girls' room. The bathroom was inbetween our rooms. Normally, I would just flip on the bathroom light so I could see. On this particular night, I had that steely determination to "be brave." Sometimes, it's the littlest things in life that make the biggest difference. I chose not to turn on the light.
The faint light of the streetlight filtered softly through the drawn windowshades. As I entered the room, I could hear the gentle rhythmic breathing of the girls. Rachel was sleeping quietly and was all covered up. I went to check on Tara. I pulled up her blankets and sat lightly on the edge of her crib. She was sound asleep too. All was well. Motherly tenderness overcame my heart and I stayed a moment to stroke her fine blonde hair and her velvety baby cheeks. I glanced up toward their closet. All motherly tenderness was shattered in that moment. All was not well. Fear utterly and completely gripped my heart as I saw the round outline of someone's head just peering from around the closet door.
At that moment I did not know what to do. Could I possibly be seeing what I thought I was seeing? How could an intruder have gotten into the house without the dog barking? He was sleeping in his crate at the top of the stairs. I forced myself to peer through the darkness, straining to see more clearly. This time I not only made out the outline of someone's head, but of their shoulder as well. My blood ran cold. I was literally frozen with fear. I was absolutely certain that in the murky darkness I had made out the outline of an intruder in my little girls' room. I was panic-stricken. I couldn't breathe. He didn't move. He must have seen me looking toward the closet. He had to know I had spied his hiding place. Still, he didn't move. I didn't know what to do, so I did the only thing I could do. I mustered up everything inside me and I screamed. I screamed the most blood-curdling scream you ever heard. It was truly a slasher-movie quality scream. I was sure the intruder was going to rush out, but to my sheer terror, he remained still. This frightened me even more.
You'd have thought that upon hearing the ear-piercing scream of his wife in the middle of the night, my dear, darling, 6'3", 240 pound husband would now valiantly rush to my aid. In my moment of greatest desperation, he slept. In fact, he slept quite soundly. He did not come valiantly or otherwise rushing to my aid. My mind was reeling with the horror of my perilous situation. Because I had screamed, the intruder now knew that I knew he was there. Still, he did not move. I could not move. Danny would not move. I did the only thing I could. I screamed again. I screamed even louder, if that were possible. I screamed from the bottom of my toes. There could not have been more terror in the scream that I screamed. Finally, my knight in shining armor was aroused from his blissful slumber. He came running in, still half asleep, sporting his finest karate chop moves, shouting, "Who 'dere? Who 'dere?" (Gotta love a Brooklyn accent at a moment like this)
I screamed, "There's someone in the closet!!" He ran to the closet and flipped on the light. He was shaking uncontrollably. My heart was pounding through my chest. He was blocking my view and I couldn't see what he was doing. The reason he was shaking uncontrollably was because he began laughing uncontrollably. Gradually, as my head began to clear, my breathing slowed to normal and my eyes began to focus, it started to dawn on me that we were no longer in mortal danger. I was literally shaking. Finally, Danny turned to me with a little smirk on his face and said, "Here is your bad-guy, honey." He held in his hand a pair of helium balloons that were eerily suspended just at the right height to appear like a person's head and shoulder. Balloons? Balloons??? Are you kidding me? I was scared out of my mind and to the point of wetting my pants by a pair of balloons???? Chalk it up to good old spookability!
Comments
• Nov. 9, 2007
HELLO!
Posted by debbiecorley
Hi! Of course, I remember you!
I read your entire blog...I feel all caught up now! I'm impressed with your techno prowess! I still can't post pics. Honestly, I haven't tried very hard..but I will figure it out someday. Funny posts! I was sad reading the one about the pumpkin patch...wish I was there. We miss the Pattons so much! I haven't talked to Amy much over the past year, but we did speak recently.
Sounds like your family is busy and happy! Which new church are you attending?
I added you to my friends list.
I'll check in soon!
Love,
Deb
• Nov. 12, 2007
LOL
Posted by LaMereAcademy
I scare easily too. If my 13 yr old ds walks ino the room quietly and then says "Mom..." I scream.
Well...his voice is so deep now and if I think I'm alone in a room and he creeps up on me...
I can't help it, comes from watching too many horror movies as a teen I think.
~Becky :)
