Let’s say that you and your signif are sleeping in separate rooms. He thinks it’s because you are beginning to hate him, is preparing himself for the worst and is expecting you to come home to tell him that you’re leaving him for George Clooney’s butt double. Drama queen. In reality, it’s because you get up for work so much earlier than he does. And, in the throws of winter you find that it is easier to get out of bed at 5am (when it is still very, very dark I might add) when there is no warm, cuddly creature aching to dig his snuggly claws in to your half-asleep body and hold you in his cuddling death grip.
So, he starts thinking, What’s a man to do, right?
Here’s one thing you can try: Find something she’s realllllly afraid of and convince her there is one in “her” room.
Have you seen that movie, Paranormal Activity ? Not one I would recommend, it’s a little … slow and the ending leaves muchmuchmuch to be desired. However, have you thought about the idea that there is or may be something supernatural lurking in your home that is able to do you harm? I will admit, I am 25 years old and I am still afraid of the dark. Or rather, what might be in the dark. So, when Mr. P tells me that I will never believe what happened today and then stops and wonders out loud if he should really tell me, and then answers his question that no, he really shouldn’t, I let myself get a little freaked out.
“I was sitting at the computer and I looked out in to the hallway and this…figure…came up the stairs, it turned at the top, looked at me, pulled the hood back over its face and went in to YOUR ROOM.” I stare at him in disbelief, so he continues. “I’m afraid of that room. I’ve always been afraid of that room.” Okay, seriously, who wouldn’t be freaked out by that description?? As the evening grew darker, I couldn’t even go in to the room without turning on the overhead light; the lamp was just not enough.
So guess where I slept last night? In the snuggly claws of the cuddle monster. Hey, I’ll take that over some paranormal hooded being.
Elsie P.
PS – George, you don’t need a butt double.
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