Okay. Something for you mothers out there. You know when you are off doing something on your own – say gardening, reading a book, watching a movie, cooking dinner, talking on the phone? And invariably you can hear the noise of those you share a house with? And then with a start you realize you can no longer hear the sound of your kids? Which of course leads you to the over used cliché of “it is too quiet” and you need to investigate?
That happened to me today. I was watching yet another episode of The West Wing in the bedroom, while Emile watched something loud and violent in the living room. With the door closed, I could only make out the bass of the crashes and booms, and the shouting voices. It wasn’t really bothering me – but I could hear it.
And somewhere in the middle of a CJ Cregg press conference, I realized that I couldn’t hear punches and blood splatter any longer. (An aside . .while I type this, I can hear these things now. It lends a sense of authenticity to my writing, don’t you think?) I paused and went out to see why my husband – who doesn’t do a lot of quiet things except fix computers – stopped making noise at 9:45 pm.
You have to understand – I spend much of my free time imagining the horrible things that could happen to him. Car accidents, electrocutions, bad cat scratch, hand caught in a car door, severe eye injury leading to eventual blindness, MS, cancer or constipation.
This invariably leads to me saying “Drive Slowly – precious cargo”, “Wear safety glasses”, “Is the power off?”, “Be Careful!” and handing out vitamins, acai berries and chia seeds with admonishments to Live Forever.
He was missing! Despite being in my pajamas, I wandered outside to check the garage. I looked in the basement, checked the backyard. Checked the other bathroom. Looked for his car (still there). Called his cell phone (here in the house). I was stymied. Where is he? Could someone break in here and take him without me knowing? And it’s not like he knows anything about off shore bank accounts. So why would they take him? This scenario seems unlikely. And if he wasn’t taken by force, why didn’t he tell me he was leaving? Maybe I missed a note! No.
I’d better keep my hands occupied so I can stem the panic starting to gurgle up. I’ll unload the dishwasher while I consider the facts. He is not here. He has not taken his car. Hmmmm. Surely he hasn’t gone running. It’s almost dark – a car wouldn’t be able to see him! He could trip and twist his ankle and need help! If he is running, I don’t know when he is left, so I don’t know when he should be back! I don’t know which route he took! Oh My God! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!
Door Slam.
“Oh, Hi Sooz, just running. What’s the matter with you? Didn’t you hear me getting ready for a run?”
Honestly, man. I need to lay down. . . .
June 21st, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: Who needs exercise? Just have your spouse disappear to run late at night to get your heart rate up.
The Daily EO 