Has anyone else noticed that for some reason when something goes wrong, something hurts you or you experience something scary, you don’t necessarily react until someone you care about (or someone who cares about you) shows concern? It’s like when a toddler is running then trips and falls, and the parents are quick to say “Oh, you’re okay,” or “Oppsie daisies” in a cheerful, upbeat tone so the toddler won’t cry. Because people react to your responses. I find that so very interesting.
Take last night for example. I had a bit of a scare at my house. I was home by myself (stupid, I know). I had just gotten home and was settling in upstairs to eat my yummy spinach alfredo pizza from Papa Johns when I heard something unsettling. It was the sound of the security alarm. My heart stopped. Now, since I live on the third floor and the alarm system is downstairs, I only heard it faintly. It took what felt like minutes for my brain to make sense of the sound and for the phone to ring: the security company calling to ask if I was alright. No I thought. I’m not alright. I’m home alone and the alarm is sounding. That can’t be a good thing. The security lady told me that it was a code “blah blah” which mean it was our family room door. Then I got scared. Like really scared. So here I was in an empty house with an alarm sounding and a potential intruder. The lady told me she would call the police and instructed me to do the same. So I did. But you know what, no one stayed on the phone with me until the officer arrived. I mean, what the crap?!
So I started calling my family. I called my mom. Her phone was off and went straight to voicemail. I called my sister. I called my sister. I called my sister. I had to of called my sister thirty times, and when no one answered, I really started to panic. So I called my brother in law. No answer. I had to of called him about fifteen times before I started calling my BFF. I called her. And called her. And called her, on and on and on. And I receive and email from her (on my blackberry) saying that she was on the phone with her boyfriend upset but that she saw that I was calling. Uhm. Hello. When I call you fifteen times back to back, chances are I’m not calling to see how your day was. Haha.
So finally the officer arrived after my many and failed attempts to contact my family. He searched through the outside of the house, and when we got up onto the porch, he discovered that our back porch door was open. Talk about scaring the shit (excuse my language, but sometimes it’s just necessary) out of me.
But since we had just had the floors done, we weren’t able to walk on the hardwoods, so I couldn’t let him search the entire house. In fact, I’m sure the officer must have thought he was on an episode of Candid Camera because when he asked to go upstairs, I told him the only way I was letting up there was if he danced his way in. Seriously, I thought the giant 250+ lb black officer was going to bust out laughing then. He replied with “whatever you want, Ma’am.” Unfortunately, he broke the ledge I needed him to dance onto to swing himself onto the staircase, and he fell, all 250+ lbs of him, onto our soft hardwoods. And the funny thing is I was more afraid to tell my parents about that than that someone broke into the house.
But alas, we searched the house, but the officer couldn’t clear it because there was a whole downstairs section that I wouldn’t let him walk on. And since I couldn’t get ahold of my family, he said I couldn’t stay at home. Uhm, thanks Mr. Officer man. But I had no intentions of staying there anyway! So I drove to my sister’s house in Wake Forest and prayed that I could get in. Knowing that everyone was already asleep, and so sound asleep that they weren’t answering their phones, made me question if I was even going to be able to get into their house. Luckily, I was able to get in. But when I did, my brother-in-law was on the couch watching TV. He asked me “whatcha doin’ honey,” thinking I was my sister. When I poked my head around the corner, he was surprised to see me there since I had made such a big stink about staying at home. It wasn’t until he looked concerned and asked me what was wrong that I broke down.
Why is that, I wonder? Adrenaline and the relief that it’s all over? And there is just something about someone showing concern for you. It’s one of those times that you can actually feel the love that someone has for you. And there is just something so comforting about that.
When I finally went upstairs to wake my sleeping mother (who was staying at my sister’s house due to the floors), she was so confused. When she woke up, she thought she was at home and couldn’t understand what the big deal was and why I was crying. Because I couldn’t talk at first. I couldn’t tell her what was wrong. And she had two immediate thoughts: 1) J & I had a big fight and the wedding was off or 2) Something awful happened to J. Wrong. On both accounts. Although the fact that J never answered his phone may have been enough to spark both 1 & 2. And again, it’s that concerned reaction that just makes a person, at least me, cry even harder.
So I guess in this story, I’m the toddler who tripped and fell, which doesn’t surprise me in the least.