Things that go bump in the night
May 27, 2008 – 7:35 amIt’s after midnight and I’m exhausted. I have a nasty cold, my nose won’t stop running, and my head aches and aches. It’s been a long day and all I want to do is sleep.
But I cannot go to sleep.
Our king-sized bed seems massive when I’m the only one in it. Our darkened house is foreign, eery, and fraught with danger when I’m the sole protector.
I kick off the blankets, sit up in bed, and…
What was that noise?
I cock my head to the side, listening intently. I am almost positive that something when BUMP downstairs.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand up. Ever-so-quietly I creep into the hallway and down the stairs. The moonlight shining through the window casts an eery glow across the basement.
It is silent.
But wait… over there…
What is that shape there in the shadows?
I feel as though I’m in the clutches of a bad dream, frozen to the spot, helpless to move. My heart races like a thousand horses inside my heaving chest.
Frantically I look around for a makeshift weapon.
WHY don’t I believe in guns, again?
Right now a semi-automatic or sawed-off shotgun is sounding pretty good.
WHY did we settle on goldfish rather than an attack dog?
I’d give my left elbow for a drooling rottweiler right about now.
Unfortunately the closest thing that I have is the broom resting against the wall.
This will have to do.
I pick up the broom and advance toward the suspicious shape.
Outside I hear a car engine starting up. A cloud crosses in front of the moon and the room darkens. My heart is pounding so forcefully that I fear it will beat its way right out of my chest and onto the floor.
As I get closer, I see that the shape that I’m about to attack is only a pile of unfolded laundry.
Blasted laundry.
I straighten up and heave a sigh of relief.
Might as well check one more time to make sure the house is secure.
And so I begin the fifteenth vigil through the house, checking to see that each window and door is fastened and bolted, and examining the closets and corners for evidence of lurking hoodlums.
It’s all secure. Still.
The only thing lurking is dust bunnies… and they’re harmless.
Wearily, I return to my bed.
The house is secure. I tell myself. Nothing is going to happen.
So why can’t I sleep?
And WHAT was that bumping sound?
The hairs along the back of my neck stand at attention.
This is going to be a LONG night.
Somehow I do actually survive this seemingly endless week of nights in which I battle imaginary burglers all alone while Jay “works” in London.
Finally, after getting his fill of biscuits and tea or bangers and mash or kidney pie or WHATEVER he is eating over there, Jay flies home across the Atlantic Ocean and into the arms of his bleary-eyed wife and amazingly well-rested son.
Who are VERY glad to see him.
***
If you live in Washington or Oregon or B.C. or have an inclination to visit one of these places, come check out our very excellent giveaway on Seattle Mom Blogs where you could win two nights at a beach cottage on the Washington coast!
***
Don’t forget to subscribe to email updates or the RSS feed!
©2008 Absolutely Bananas. All Rights Reserved.
Related Posts
Mother. Coffee drinker. Information seeker. Skeptic. Creative. Dreamer. Schemer. Absolutely Bananas.
By Manager Mom on May 27, 2008 | Reply
Oh… I have BEEN THERE! Although usually instead of a wayward husband it turns out to be a raccoon on the roof.
[Reply to this comment]
By Z on May 27, 2008 | Reply
I HATE that - noises and weird nightly silhouettes always seem magnified when my husband is away…
[Reply to this comment]
By Queen of Shake-Shake on May 27, 2008 | Reply
I do the exact same thing when Wally is gone at night. Thankfully he is rarely gone.
[Reply to this comment]
By My Life My Life My Life on May 27, 2008 | Reply
I don’t know about that pile of laundry but I sure would have been scared…
I hate nights like that…seems like I dont sleep, my adrenline’s pumping, and I end up paying for it the next day. I have the drooling rottweiler and sometimes he adds to terror…when he gives this loud bark at 3am and I investigate and pretty much all it is is a tree branch that scares him, it STILL leave me unsettled.
[Reply to this comment]
By Trenches of Mommyhood on May 27, 2008 | Reply
I’m the same way. Hubby leaves for MD on Sunday and I’m already dreading the sleepless nights.
[Reply to this comment]
By looksgoodinpolkadots on May 27, 2008 | Reply
Sounds like my house when Hubby is gone… he leaves for China again soon and I won’t sleep for 2 weeks! Lucky me, I have a baseball bat under the bed. :) Why is it that there are always so many MORE noises when we are home alone.
[Reply to this comment]
By KD-Pie on May 27, 2008 | Reply
I make my mom or my grandma stay the night with me when my husband is gone, so I totally feel you. I am a weenie.
[Reply to this comment]
By Karen at work on May 27, 2008 | Reply
Ever since we got a security system, I rest easy. You should think about it. It also chirps when you open an outside door, even when it’s not armed which has prevented the grand escape plans of my kids on more than one occasion. (And I swear I don’t work for a security company.)
[Reply to this comment]
By Chelsea on May 27, 2008 | Reply
I’m so glad I’m not the only one who struggles with this. My husband just doesn’t get it — why I can’t sleep when he travels and end up a big teary mess after several sleepless nights. And it doesn’t help that my neighbor just had a break-in and another friend actually experienced a home invasion. Fear sucks.
[Reply to this comment]
By the planet of janet on May 27, 2008 | Reply
i NEVER sleep well when my husband is out of town. never.
[Reply to this comment]
By Mrs. F on May 27, 2008 | Reply
I feel ya! My husband lived in an apartment 3 hours away from home for 12 days at a time last March through December. Some nights were worse than others, but for the most part they were all restless. I considered sleeping with my gun a few times, but didn’t because what if the kids crawled into bed with me and found it? Or what if I accidentally pulled the trigger while it was under my pillow and blew my brains out? Both scenarios would end bad, no doubt.
[Reply to this comment]
By Wendy on May 27, 2008 | Reply
Well, I hope he was eating fish and chips in a newspaper! Yummmmy!
I have many a night like this, J., with me and the dog jumping around. Know what’s real spooky? When your dog starts barking in the middle of the night (for no reason, only you don’t know that)! I just bought a big bottle of excedrin pm….for me, altho I may give it to the dog too…
[Reply to this comment]
By seven on May 27, 2008 | Reply
Once when I was housesitting, I had a really strange dream in which I got shot. Being “shot” woke me up (it was about 3:30 am) and immediately I thought I heard someone in the house. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that someone was in the living room robbing the place, and I was so frightened that I honestly could not move for nearly half an hour. Finally I determined that there must not be anyone in the house, plus I really had to pee, so I got up and turned on every light in the house, opened every closet door and rechecked all the locks. When I finally was reassured that I was alone in the house except for the dog, I went pee and tried to go back to sleep… nothing doing. I had to turn the TV on, and I didn’t go back to sleep until it was light. So scary.
[Reply to this comment]
By Jill on May 27, 2008 | Reply
Glad to hear that I am not the only one who has these freak out moments. I always crack up at myself when I am searching the house and think, “what would I do if I actually found someone hiding behind the shower curtain?” Say, “Oh, just wanted to make sure you were there.” HA!
[Reply to this comment]
By jennyonthespot on May 28, 2008 | Reply
Been there too - I have even slept at my door - on my stomach/knees - much like a crouching tiger/hidden dragon - ready to pounce down the stairs with a billy club handed down to me from my mother-in-laws’ mother… for nearly the entire night.
[Reply to this comment]
By Storm on May 29, 2008 | Reply
Sounds like my night, every night. One of the cons of being a single mother.
I’m glad to hear the rein of sole protector for you is now over so you can get some rest.
[Reply to this comment]