Wouldn’t Be Dead For Quids

I still get a little afraid of the dark, ridiculous I know. Sometimes our dogs will start growling and going ballistic at something I can’t see in the house at 2 am. 

Dave sleeps through it. 

Yet I love watching murder mysteries. The cozy murder genre like Midsommer Murders, that’s my type of murder. 

Dave, on the other hand, would rather die than watch these. That being said, he’s also convinced he’s seen all 116 episodes, so he sleeps through them these days, which makes watching TV a truly bonding experience for us. 

He prefers hard boiled, true crime. The type that leaves nothing to the imagination. Plenty of gore, guns, stake outs and death. 

One night, while Dave and I were sleeping, I woke to the sound of heavy, slow footsteps trudging up our internal stairs. At the same moment another sound began. It was a choking, gagging sound coming from inside our bedroom. My imagination was spiralling out of control. 

For some reason the awful sound seemed to add to the dread in the footsteps, as they headed quickly towards our bedroom and stopped right outside our door. 

With the blankets almost covering my face, I could see a shape looming in the darkness. It was the silhouette of a man. 

Meanwhile, Dave was fast asleep. 

I nudged him and whispered right into his ear, ‘Babe! there’s someone standing in our doorway, do something or say something!’

I knew once I woke him I would be in safe hands. His 30 years of martial arts was surely going to kick in. 

Suddenly the man flicked our bedroom light on. Dave sat up and yelled, ‘Turn the bloody light off!’ Then he lay down and was asleep again in a second. 

I looked at him, then over to my son Curran (who was the man standing in the doorway). He’d been heading up for a midnight snack then heard the dog choking (on nothing it turns out). 

But Dave didn’t know this, and nor did I. 

Sometimes I think it must be awesome being Dave. 

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