Shotgun Under My Pillow

When we first moved into the house, the Hubby was working nights and I was one scared little wife once the sun set.  I swear dark corners creaked in the night.  Even the ice cubes emptying into the tray in the freezer made me jumpy.  Sensor lights on the outside of the house turned on as the neighborhood cats walked by… as cars drove by… as other lights set off the sensor… and as dangerous men tried to break in to hurt me.  Yikes!  With each time the light went off my heart jumped out of my chest.  I remember staring out the windows as I hid terrified of seeing someone out there.  It’s funny now but I was terrified.

Trying to sleep alone in an unknown house with unknown dangers was no easy task.  Sure I had my dog, Scooby, but would he protect me?  We’d only had him for about a month and I wasn’t sure he even knew who I was.  I was still getting comfortable with him.  To make things worse I had nightmares that someone was hurting me and Scooby was frozen with fear.    

My nightly routine went a little something like this... 

Turned on all the lights. 

Double checked that all doors and windows were locked. 

Checked all closets and dark corners where someone could hide. 

Double checked that the sensor lights were working. 

Turned off all the lights except the one in the hallway. 

Locked myself and the Scooby in the bedroom. 

Placed my cell phone and Rambo knife on the night stand. 

Yes, I did all this with knife in hand ready to slice up anyone that popped up. 

A little paranoid?  Yes.  

A little crazy? Sure, but one day you’ll understand why.

After starring at the bedroom window listening for “danger” I finally fell asleep.  At some point I woke up thirsty and decided it was time to conquer my fears.  I ventured out of my “safe zone” to the kitchen.  Scooby followed.  As I walked back to the room, glass of water in hand, I thought to myself how ridiculous I was acting. 

Suddenly I heard a noise… in the house!!! 

It sounded like a grocery bag crumbling in your hands.  I literally jumped.  Made a bee-line toward the bedroom as I told Scooby with a firm voice, “Who’s there boy? Go get ‘em!”  Hoping that if anyone was there it would scare them. 

Where was my knife when I needed it!!!

I locked the bedroom door, grabbed my cell and knife, and proceeded to lock myself in the closet where I called the Hubby.  I sat there in the dark closet waiting for him to rush home.  As I waited, I thought about how useless the guns were in the safe... in the garage! 

I heard the Hubby come in and search the house but waited for him to knock on the bedroom door and call my name.  I swung the door open and with it came a flood of tears.  Sobs of relief! 

As it turns out, he arrived in uniform in his black-and-white and with backup.  His backup, a close friend, heard me cry like a crazy lady.  The house was clear and they had to get back to “the beat”.  I asked the Hubby what I should do if “they” came back.  He went to the safe and brought me a shotgun.  Showed me the ins-and-outs and reassured me with a tight hug. 

Hubby:  Keep this in the room with you.  Be careful with it.

Me:  Do you have anything smaller? 

Hubby:  No, I’m sorry.  We need to buy a gun for the room.         

I couldn't bring myself to tuck the shotgun under my pillow so I placed it in the closet as the Hubby locked all the doors behind him.  The shotguns presence took over like an elephant in the room.  I laid there for what felt like a couple hours before I nodded off. 

The sun came up as the Hubby walked through the doors to go straight to the fridge for a bite to eat before heading to bed.  Ah, another day in the life of a LEOs wife.  

CONFESSION:  I still sleep with the Rambo knife resting safely on the nightstand.  It even goes with me to the shower when I’m home alone.  The cleaning lady has never asked about it.