The Kitchen Killer
For several weeks now, I've been getting terrified by the sight of my husband. I know, I know... I make it sound as if my guy looks like the Creature from the Black Lagoon. But that's not it at all. I've literally been getting startled out of my mind when he appears somewhere unexpected in the house or if he says something when I thought he was taking a nap. Over the last month, I've probably had near-wet-pants at least a dozen times due to my husband's "sneak attacks". For instance, last week my t.v. was on and I was lying in bed. I thought my hubby was outside, so imagine my shock when he suddenly appears in the doorway, ready to shoot the breeze. I practically had a stroke! And then, I thought he had gone into the kitchen and was on my way there to see him, when he suddenly came up behind me from the guest bedroom. Once again, I yelled out and my breath caught in my throat. (I think he may be doing this on purpose to keep me on my toes... he's up to something, I can feel it!)
Today was no exception. I was in the kitchen cooking dinner, when he rode up on his quad next to the kitchen window (notice that I did NOT freak out at this point). We carried on a lovely conversation through the open window as he sat on his 4-wheeler. The conversation ended and he went away (or so I thought) and I went back to cooking. So you can see why I would scream when I turn back to the window and see that he had apparently gotten off the quad and was standing with his face up against the screen.... with his nearly black hair, dark eyes, and scruffy gottee, he's the poster child for serial killers that come for their victims through kitchen windows. I screamed. He shook his head in disbelief that I was YET AGAIN frightened by him. He keeps telling me that one day I'm going to have to accept the fact that he does, in fact, live with me and that we will continue to cross paths on occasion. I think I'll keep the paring knife with me, just in case....
Today was no exception. I was in the kitchen cooking dinner, when he rode up on his quad next to the kitchen window (notice that I did NOT freak out at this point). We carried on a lovely conversation through the open window as he sat on his 4-wheeler. The conversation ended and he went away (or so I thought) and I went back to cooking. So you can see why I would scream when I turn back to the window and see that he had apparently gotten off the quad and was standing with his face up against the screen.... with his nearly black hair, dark eyes, and scruffy gottee, he's the poster child for serial killers that come for their victims through kitchen windows. I screamed. He shook his head in disbelief that I was YET AGAIN frightened by him. He keeps telling me that one day I'm going to have to accept the fact that he does, in fact, live with me and that we will continue to cross paths on occasion. I think I'll keep the paring knife with me, just in case....