Psycho - or - PSYCHO

My morning routine is pretty standard. I awake before anyone else (only my husband now) in the house to enjoy relative peace and quiet for a few blissful moments before the rest of the day buts in. But, don’t picture the serene awakening that comes from having no babies, or sirens, or roosters, or ear piercing beeping from an alarm clock. I have none of those anymore, so the initial opening of my eyes should be as peaceful as a clear mountain morning. But it is not. I have this. Picture if you will, 3 cats and a dog, pawing, jumping, purring, scratching, playing, snoring, or just plain old bringing their latest kill on the bed for you to marvel at, awakening. Yes, there have been live & dead mice and lizards on my bed, in my face at 5:30 a.m. When one of those morning “presents” is a snake, then we may have to talk “outside living” for my lovelies. But I am getting off track.

After coffee and giving morning treats to those wild beasts, it is time for a shower. Aside from a cat or 2 always staring at me when I get out of the shower it is usually uneventful. This morning, it took a turn toward the dark side. The - OMG - a serial killer or escaped convict is in my house and I am doomed - turn. Why you ask? Oh goody, I hoped you would ask.

I turned off the water and grabbed my towel and heard a small tinkling sound. The song was London Bridge. Just a few notes of it, but definitely London Bridge. A small chime sound. But we have no chimes! It sounded like the background music a slasher film has just before the slasher kills his next victim. I peer through the shower door. No cats. OMG! He has already killed my babies!!!

Then I heard another noise coming from the kitchen. Mother of God! The chime sound WASN’T my imagination. It is official, I am a dead woman. What will my children say? What will they do when they receive the news that their mother was found dead in the bathroom and their father was found murdered in his bed? Oh the carnage! The loss of human life!!

I need to sneak out of this shower trap and close & lock the bathroom door!! I wonder if the kids will know where to find the life insurance information. I wonder about the grandchildren I will miss. I wonder if the children will fight over the train lamp. Which one will have to tell my aging mother??!! I wonder why I lived this long, only to go out in such a brutal and senseless manner. Why didn’t I buy that FJ Cruiser when I had the chance???!! Why don’t I keep my cell phone in the bedroom?

More noise snaps me from my thoughts. What will I do, what will I do…

Grabbing my only weapon – a large, heavy bottle of shampoo, I sneak toward the door. I know you are asking why I am sneaking when obviously the killer knows I was in the shower – but just go with me here. You never think rationally when you are clearly almost murdered.

It was then I heard it. The pop, sploosh of a coke can open. Really?? The murderer is so brazen that he takes time to drink a coke? My poor, sweet husband must already been dispatched. No one to help me now. Ok, let’s get this over with. I bravely walk into the hall and there he is. MY HUSBAND!!

He got up early to take the motorcycle to the shop. Did he bother to tell me? Nope.

Clearly, my life will have to flash before my eyes another day – but he – my husband – better watch his back tonight…