I've always been easily spooked, a bit jumpy at times. Each of my kids could probably tell tales of surprising me and sending me into a frenzy of hand wiggling and frightening squeals. Frequently when it's happened I've charged them with knowing beforehand they were scaring the daylights out of me. And, usually they were.
Many years ago, at another time, in another home, I was crouched on the floor, sitting on my knees, scrubbing away in the bathtub. I wasn't aware Mike had walked into the room behind me. He started to say something - right there at the edge of me - and startled me like no other! I can recall slapping that scrub sponge down into the tub and jumping to my feet all in one movement. I turned toward him and had this weird screech in my voice as I asked how he could do that to me? Tears streamed down my face as I hit my hands against his chest in retaliation for scaring me like that. Then, I just crumbled into his arms and he laughed at my reaction.
The kids have seriously played on my extreme reactions over the years. Like ringing the doorbell and pressing their face up close to the door window to frighten me when I peek out or seeing how close they can get to me, without my knowing, before saying something to startle me. They've enjoyed startling me awake on more than one occasion and just burst with laughter when they've managed to solicit a reaction.
With age, I've gotten to be a bit more jumpy, let's say. Back in the day, locking the door was never a concern, not even a passing thought. These days, day or night, when I'm alone at the house, and sometimes when others are around, I keep the door locked. Maybe there's just been too many instances of one of the kids coming in the house without me knowing and scared the crap out of me when they've said something or quietly entered a room. Either way, I keep the door locked, at least most of the time.
Last night was the reaction of all reactions. I am still trembling on the inside.
I had fallen asleep watching TV, kicked back in Mike's recliner. I didn't hear Mike come into the house. My little dogs didn't scurry around when he came into the room. My first awareness of him being in the room was when he was standing at the very edge of the chair, starting to reach across to the table and pick up the remote.
Oh my heck!
$*&*(^(*$&$%@! Okay, no, I didn't let loose with any foul language but I maybe could have. I don't even recall what I said, or maybe it was just what I thought. I don't know. How on earth could he do that??? I can't even imagine a more frightening situation than startling awake in a dark room with a large figure looming over. Oh my heck that was the worst.
Poor Mike.
He just backed off a bit and looked at me with one of those deer in the headlight looks, "I'm sorry. I was just trying to pick up the remote. I'm sorry"
Meanwhile, I had shriveled up into a semi-fetal position trembling uncontrollably with tears rolling down from my eyes. I just know my eyes were the size of silver dollars. He scared me so bad! This was the worst!
Just a reminder for all who are near and dear ... don't do that!