SUPPORT GROUP FOR WIMPS

Hi, my name is Reese Mobley and things that go bump in the night scare the crap out of me. Living breathing creatures that crawl—other than puppies or babies, are creepy. I rarely watch scary shows, even from the comfort of my living room. I’d never pay money to see a scary movie at the theater. I’m not a thrill seeker or an adrenaline junkie. That’s not to say I don’t ever or have never done any of the above, but if I can avoid them, I can and do. I am a wimp. I’ve come to terms with my level of wimpiness.

Which brings me to this blog.

It was a dark and stormy night.

Really it was. Dark and stormy. And late. All three kids had been tucked safely into their beds. Hubby and I were happily snoring away beneath our soft flannel sheets with the cartoon sheep on them. The rain raged on accented by the occasional crash of thunder or stab of lightening.

Hours into our slumber, we heard a strange noise that didn’t resemble anything normal or from Mother Nature. The sinister sound came from the basement where the two oldest children each had their own rooms. I covered my head. Hero hubby decided to crawl out from the warmth and comfort of our sheep sheets to check on their safety and scare away any boogiemen who dared to linger longer.

Hubby’s weapon of choice was an aluminum baseball bat. Clutching the bat tightly, he turned on the hall light, peeked into all the upstairs rooms and headed for the basement. In the meantime, I rolled over and tried to reclaim some much needed beauty sleep. After all, he had everything under control.

The house grew silent. The hall light went off. I knew hubby would soon be joining me in bed. I dozed off. He slid between the sheep sheets and asked, “why’d you turn off the hall light?”

My heart stopped. My eyes flew open. Those fine hairs on the back of my neck stood erect. Goosebumps dotted my arms. And legs. And everything in between. “I didn’t turn off the light.”

“Then who did?”

Gulp.

When morning finally peeked through our windows we crawled out of bed. No worse for wear, but as tired as if we'd slept with one eye open--which we had. It was then that our youngest son, a four year old, looked up from the cartoons on the television and informed us that we’d stupidly left the hall light on and he’d taken care of it for us.

Thanks, son.

Hugs, Reese

21 comments:

Jessica Mobley said...

Stupid Tyler! Very scary mommy. Dad still says that was one on his scariest moments too. Love you!

Reese Mobley said...

Almost as scary as when the smoke alarms went off at 2:00 in the morning for no reason. XOXO

Tina said...

Rats! I was hoping for something more sinister! LOL!

Reese Mobley said...

I'm glad it wasn't!! Thanks for commenting.

Pat Davids said...

What a great story. Thanks for sharing. I'm a whimp, too, most of the time. I had no idea there was a support group for us.

Roxann Delaney said...

With a husband who went on 2-week TDYs when we lived out in the middle of nowhere, I had to teach myself not to let things get to me. There was the old chicken brooder house out back, along with old grain bins and a big, empty barn. To one side of the house, there was a deep hedgerow. The nearest neighbor was 1/4 mile away. It took some doing, but I managed to teach myself not to let my imagination run amuck. With four girls, somebody had to stay sane.

Reese Mobley said...

Pat, there are support groups for everything. You a wimp? Doubt it.

Reese Mobley said...

Rox, you are my hero. My imagination would have made me go crazy and I'd have taken my kids with me.

Jessica Matthews said...

What a great story, Reese. I can imagine how terrifying it must have been for you. I'm glad you had a simple explanation!

Tina said...

Wow! I was hoping for something more sinister..LOL! I'm glad it was explainable!

Joan Vincent said...

Great story Reese! Reminds me of the time I called my dad at 10:30 pm to say the dog wouldn't stop barking! Hubby was out of town and my oldest was 1 month old and we were in the middle of nowhere like Rox. It was over a half hour drive from my parent's to our rented farmhouse but dad was there in 20 minutes. He told me he didn't care why the dog was barking, he wasn't coming back, and I was to pack what I needed and come home with him. Hate to admit it but scardy cat that I was I did so. At least I never did so again!

Reese Mobley said...

Jessica, it's funny how simple that was explained, but the noise we heard wasn't.

Reese Mobley said...

Joan, I was alone one time and had to call my dad to come get me. Mine wasn't because of a dog it was because of a phone call that scared me to death. Thank heavens for our daddy's.

Penny Rader said...

Too funny. I'm a wimp, too. From a young age I was a firm believer of sticking my head under the covers--if I can't see you, then you can't see me. And leaping from the floor onto my bed so that whatever's under the bed can't reach out and grab me. ;D

Roxann Delaney said...

Stephen King won't let his wife put a dust ruffle on the bed. And he has a tendency to check under the bed with a broom handle.

Dina Preuss said...

Reese, Nice story!

It brought back memories of my first weeks of Newly-weddom when my hubsand and I (both only 19 then) thought we heard an intruder.

My young husband arose from bed (buck naked) grabbed a hunting arrow from his quill and proceeded to crouch down the hallway to confront our intruder.

The sight made me histerical and instead of thanking him for his brave protection of me-- I giggled.

Oh well, live and learn. We never found the intruder, thankfully, and he came back to bed finding me still giggling.

I haven't thought much about that incident until reading your story here.

Nina Sipes said...

Reese,
I laughed and laughed. I'm sorry, I'm sure it was frightening, but to read that story and think about your little boy being so matter of fact about something that had you scared is very funny to me.

I laugh, but one night I lay in silent terror for hours. My sister and I shared a room. Something awoke me in the night and I saw two orange GLOWING EYES!! I knew it was a monster, and alien monster. I wanted to warn her as she slept so innocently, but didn't want to direct the monster's attention to me by making ANY sound. I watched his glowing, unblinking eyes until it was light enough from the rising sun that dawn to realize I had watched two glowing night lights that had been put in one outlet together. Because I had been lying down, they looked like two eyes. When I sat up, they were one over the other. I went over there and wrenched out one of the night lights and from that day forward have always made sure that never are two night lights in one outlet! Nor have I ever told a soul in the family about it. Who wants to admit they're afraid of night lights?

Nina Sipes said...

Reese,
I laughed and laughed. I'm sorry, I'm sure it was frightening, but to read that story and think about your little boy being so matter of fact about something that had you scared is very funny to me.

I laugh, but one night I lay in silent terror for hours. My sister and I shared a room. Something awoke me in the night and I saw two orange GLOWING EYES!! I knew it was a monster, and alien monster. I wanted to warn her as she slept so innocently, but didn't want to direct the monster's attention to me by making ANY sound. I watched his glowing, unblinking eyes until it was light enough from the rising sun that dawn to realize I had watched two glowing night lights that had been put in one outlet together. Because I had been lying down, they looked like two eyes. When I sat up, they were one over the other. I went over there and wrenched out one of the night lights and from that day forward have always made sure that never are two night lights in one outlet! Nor have I ever told a soul in the family about it. Who wants to admit they're afraid of night lights? I'm glad there is a support group for wimps.

Reese Mobley said...

Penny, I'm with you. If I can't identify them then they have no reason to kill me. lol

Reese Mobley said...

Dina! Good to hear from you. Isn't it funny how we all have spooky tales to tell? Love it.

Reese Mobley said...

Nina, next time I need rescued from a night light, you're the woman to do it. Thanks for posting!