I’ve been talking to people lately and they know all about the post that was up for 2.5 seconds before I took and down, and I’m all like “What the hell? People even still come here?!” I don’t post anything, like ever, and unless you are a (ahem) professional Blogger and subscribed (Or have been involuntarily subjected to receiving an email with my post in it because I signed you up (hi girls!)) then that means my friends actually type in this blog address on a regular daily basis to read about what I wrote. And how disappointing when I don’t really write anything anymore.
I have some dedicated friends, that’s for sure. I am feeling guilty(ish), but I am also just a little behind on life and other things have taken priority over my boring the internet masses with my stuff.
Yawn. I know. We’ve all heard that blog mantra before and we are all over it.
So, this morning I was snoozing in with Cannon tucked in my armpit. (That kid is a magnet. His little three year old too-old-to-be-sleeping-in-my-bed body sneaks in every effing night and becomes suctioned to my skin like a sucker fish to the side of an aquarium tank. I secretly love it.)
Josh was in the shower and I could hear Grant downstairs eating oatmeal, occasionally screaming my name (which I ignored because Good God son I’m sleeping!) or talking to himself.
I heard Grant get up from the table and begin to walk his bowl to the sink. I heard him say, “Hi” a little timidly. That’s when I became really awake and stopped breathing so I could really analyze every sound that was occurring in my house.
Then I heard Grant running, I mean fast, no-shit hauling ass upstairs, I think he probably took two steps at a time sprint. He tore into my room and soared right onto my bed. I bolted upright!
“What’s wrong?”
“There is something downstairs!”
His voice was shaky and scared.
“Like a bug?”
“No. A gray thing. It was moving really really fast. I said hi.”
“Was it an animal?”
“No, it was a gray thing. Like my age.”
“What are you talking about? What’s downstairs?”
“I don’t know. It was moving really really fast.”
“Do you want me to go look [please fucking God say no I do not want to go down there what the hell is in my house]?”
“No, it’s too scary. Don’t go downstairs.”
“Grant, was it your shadow? Did you see your shadow down there?”
“No mom. It was a gray thing and it was moving really fast.”
‘”Did you see your reflection in the window Grant? Was it you?”
“No, it was in the dining room. I was putting my bowl away and it was really fast in the dining room and it was big like me.”
Because I like to take the flamingo approach with scary things, I stuck my head back under my pillow in the sand and completely ignored the issue. It didn’t come up again this morning.
Until now.
Should I be calling a priest? What the hell was in my house? What did he see?
Friday, July 17, 2009
Who Ya Gonna Call?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 awesome people had somethin' to say...:
Ask him to draw it and show you exactly where he was and where "it was".
keep us posted....
whoa. yeah. I don't know, but that's freaky. I agree with your mom (so cute, btw!) have him explain in more detail and maybe draw it or something. GAH!!
OMG! I got goosebumps just reading that. That is freaky! I hate when my daughter talks to herself when she is in her room...alone. But your son was really scared and that is not good. :( They do say children have a better sense of that kind of thing. Good Luck and definantly keep us updated on this.
Ohmygawd!!!
Now you've got me hooked, WHAT WAS IN YOUR HOUSE?? Please let us know if you figure it out!
Several years ago (and of course hubby was out of town) my youngest daughter was in the basement and came upstairs, eyes WIDE and said, "Mom, there is SOMETHING in the basement." Now I'm a fraidy cat and absolutely positively terrified of snakes, so what else would I think it was. We went downstairs and something RAN to the sump pump and hopped inside.
Now, I'm freakin' out and really pissed that the DH isn't there to take care of this. I was trying to figure out how to make the sump pump empty itself, all the while wondering if I called our cop friend, would he get his gun out and kill whatever it was?!
Well, we mustered up our courage and popped the top off the sump pump (ready to pee in our pants) and out jumped a really wet and very pissed off squirrel!!!
Needless to say, we were a little relieved but still scared as heck. We RACED up the stairs, slamming the door behind us, screaming all the while.
Later that day I went to the store, bought some peanuts and made a trail of peanuts out the door and up the stairs to the outside, leaving the rodent to let itself outside. WORKED!
Hugs
Verne Troyer?
I hear he loves him some Oatmeal.
Ok, was it his shadow mixed with car headlights? See a shadow is always a shadow. but if a car passes just at the right moment that one observes a shadow affected ever so briefly by neighbor lights turning into a driveway, then it is a monster. Every time.
*grabbin my woobie* Sniff.
Your house being possessed is the most likely answer. Or there was something in his oatmeal....
YIKES!!! Did you ever figure this one out?
Post a Comment