I don’t do well with scary movies.
The suspense gets me every time. My heart starts beating a hundred miles a minute, I feel like I’m about to keel over and I just reach that point where I can’t keep my eyes open.
Nowadays, I don’t try to push myself through it. If my husband puts a scary movie on, I’ll grab a book or photo album, maybe do some laundry. Something, anything — even junk mail — to turn to when I can’t take the suspense any more.
But when I was younger, I stuck it out. My friends would get all geeked for a good thriller and I’d plaster a smile on my face and grab a stuffed animal to hold on to for dear life.
Remember Psycho? Oh yeah, I’ve seen it. In fact, I have a complex from it.
That famous scene where the girl gets stabbed in the shower has never left my memory. Every time I shower, if I so much as hear a pin drop, my heart starts racing.
The sound of the shower curtain being ripped away, that horrible scary movie music and the big knife all replay in my mind.
It used to be pretty bad. If I heard a noise, I’d have to jump out of the shower — soapy hair or not — and check out the bathroom, making sure the door was locked. I’d turn off the water and listen closely, trying to pay attention to any noises that might sound like an intruder.
This morning, I heard a loud thump while I was in the shower.
My stomach dropped, my heart raced. My husband was gone for the day. What was that noise?
I reassured myself — if someone was in my house, especially in my bedroom, they’d have to get by Sensi before they could do any damage.
I didn’t hear Sensi bark, so, I told myself, “It was probably just the dog jumping down from the bed.”
Sensi does not normally leave the bed until I’m done getting ready. In fact, he waits until the hairdryer is clicked off before he wakes.
I think he covets those precious morning minutes when he gets the bed all to himself. He stretches out, uses our pillows, rolls around in the blankets.
When I got out of the shower, I looked into the bedroom, expecting to see Sensi laying on the floor. But he wasn’t. No, he was in the bed, as usual.
So what was that noise?
I continued on with my morning routine, putting my contacts in. That’s when I walked to my nightstand to grab my chapstick and there it was. My explanation.
Sensi had gotten off the bed — the thump I heard was most definitely him jumping onto the floor — at which point he puked ALL over the place.
The pile of lumpy, fresh, smelly puke stretched from the bed to the door.
And that, folks, was how my morning started.
Hope the day gets better from here ...