First, thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. I'm glad that it opened up an interesting dialogue. I'm sad that I don't think we got through to the people who really needed to hear it. Okay, I'm really not sad. That's their problem. And unfortunately, any readers who happen to get sucked in by the hype.
This post is not as relevant. In fact, it's basically just a somewhat funny slice of life. It's also a true story. Promise.
Last night my daughter and I were indulging in our little reality series addiction to Teen Mom 2. Don't get all judgy with me, I don't criticize your television viewing habits. Unless you watch Jersey Shore, which is just mind numbingly ridiculous. And you probably should not publicly admit you watch that show. So we're watching the Teen Moms (most of whom, I want to slap) and they keep having trailers for the new film "The Woman in Black" which looks fabulously scary and I'm going to see on opening night. Don't know what I'm talking about? Watch this:
And Molly, my daughter, who is twenty and has a baby and a husband, says that even the previews are too scary and now she doesn't want to go to bed. I point out that she has a nightlight in the room "for the baby" and her husband beside her. She's not reassured.
My husband and I laugh at her (no, not in a mean way, just in a "you're so silly" type way). The show finishes, we all go to bed. My husband falls instantly to sleep, as usual. I stay up reading (this is my appointed two hour reading period). I'm reading a book called, The Harbor, (you can read my review of it over at See Spot Read) and it's quite good. It's also a little unnerving. I stay up an extra hour to finish it and find that when I put out the light, I'm still thinking about the book. (Hint: that means it's a good one) I think it's because it deals with possession. For some reason, the thought of demonic possession unnerves me more than most themes. Silly, I know, for someone who doesn't believe in heaven or hell. I still believe in absolute evil, though. And whether it's because I saw the movie, The Exorcist, at too young of an age (still one of the scariest movies of all time) or some other reason, possession scares me.
So I'm lying in bed, covers up to my chin, even though I'm overly warm (do not ask how my covers protect me, they just do), beside my snoring husband, contemplating demonic possession and thinking I shouldn't have made fun of Mo. When suddenly, my husband sits up in bed and hollers, "What?" really loudly. I swear my heart stopped. I bit my tongue to hold in the scream that threatened to burst from my throat. (Only the thought that the wrath of my daughter should I wake up her baby by screaming, would be worse than any demon, allowed me to keep it in) My husband laid back down. When I managed to swallow the blood from my tongue, take a shaky breath into my lungs and be sure my heart was, indeed, still beating, I asked, "Um. Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he replied. " I just sat up and yelled, didn't I?"
"You did," I assured him. "Why?"
"I don't know. I guess I was dreaming."
"Well, if my hair has turned completely white overnight, you'll know it's because you nearly frightened me to death. You're lucky I didn't have to pee."
He had the nerve to chuckle. So I socked him. In nearly 22 years of marriage, the man has had maybe one bad dream. He has to pick the night I'm already nervous to have another? Rude.
I did get to sleep after that. And thankfully, my hair is still its usual color this morning. I did share with my daughter so that she could laugh at me for a change. Turns out she was up with the baby and heard him shout and us talking afterwards. I should have screamed.
Books that scared you? I'd love to know what makes you leave the lamp on.