Sunday, November 6, 2011


Years ago (and I mean many years ago), my friend Jill and I went to see a scary movie.  At the time I was living with Jill, her dad, and her grandmother.  Another friend of ours was visiting from out of town but instead of going to the movies with us, she opted to go to a Saturday night church service.  I wish I had gone with her instead.

The movie When A Stranger Calls, scared the bejeepers out of us both  and neither one of us would sleep in her grandmother's room because it had a closet in it.  We begged our friend to sleep in there instead (contrary to the original sleeping plan)  until she finally rolled her eyes and acquiesced  to our demand.  You see, in the movie a young girl is terrorized by a psychopath while she babysits.  Some guy keeps calling and asking if she has checked the children yet.  It turns out that the creep is making the calls from inside the house and although the babysitter is saved, the two children she was looking after did not fair so well.  Fast forward a number of years and the babysitter is having dinner out with her husband when she receives a phone call at the restaurant  from the psychopath asking her if she's checked the children yet.  She rushes home to find her kids safe but just before she turns out the lights for the night, she decides to check on her kids one last time.  They're fine and she climbs back into bed.  She rolls over to find herself face to face with the psychopath.  Scary.

Why am I telling you all this?  Well, over thirty years after watching that stupid movie once, I still find myself thinking about it almost every time I climb into bed when Ian's gone to bed before me.   In fact, I check that it is Ian in the bed before I climb into it.

The other night I retired for the night a good hour after Ian and slipped quietly into bed.  I lay there for a few seconds then realized that I hadn't checked to see that the man in the bed was actually my husband.  I slowly turned over and my heart skipped a beat.  The man in the bed was considerably shorter than Ian and he wasn't making Ian's usual deep sleep breathing noises.  A scream almost escaped my lips but then I heard his deep even breathing and with my eyes finally adjusting to the darkness I could see that the outline of the body in my bed was indeed Ian, he was just sleeping lower in the bed than usual.

This is why I flat out refuse to watch scary movies.  My vivid imagination needs absolutely no help.

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