just the other day i had a conversation with max about how we sometimes scare ourselves with our imagination. he told me sometimes when he's playing all alone he'll feel like someone is watching him or touching him but no one is in the room. and i tried to explain to him that a good imagination sometimes works against us in these situations.
like when i was little: my parents had a winding hallway to their bedroom. if i was ever leaving their room alone i usually did it running as fast as i could because i knew there was a full sized tiger right on my tail. i know. stupid, but real...to me.
so, i'm on the lookout for THE perfect buffet for a nook in my entry that i want to paint. like this. i know, it's beautiful.
well, i found it at this great antique store in this bazzar old building/barn/warehouse. well it turns out it's 3 inches too long. sob.
so while i was there, with my girls and this kid who runs the store, i started to feel all creepy and paranoid.
i was there, all alone, in this secluded building with this guy.
it did not help matters when he left the room i was in and returned with a LARGE pair of pruning shears, leather gloves, and rope along with the measuring tape i had requested (dang it! why hadn't i brought my own tape?!)
i kept it cool, asking questions about this or that, making sure i had each of my girls by the arm and at least two large pieces of furniture between us and the guy at all times.
when i saw him start to pull those thick gloves on all i could think was that he'd thought this through and was going to make sure there was no incriminating evidence. he gave me a strange look because i'm sure he had detected my internal panic through what i was trying to present as a cool and calm smile.
i ended what could have been a very fruitful scavenging trip with a, "well, i'll just come back sometime soon to see what you've got. okay, bye." and took the most unpredictable rout to the front door for our escape.
got to the door and i couldn't get the latch open, which, of course, meant we'd been locked in. my heart was pounding so hard and i was just starting to look for a window we could climb through (all the while checking to make sure he hadn't followed us wielding those abnormally sharp shears) when the latch went "click", the door swung open and we were free...
but not out of danger yet.
home base was in the car with the doors locked and engine running.
"buckle up, girls!! let's get the H out of here."
so i'm still in full search mode for the perfect buffet, and now i can't ever go back to that store by myself. i'm gonna have to bring a bodyguard-caliber friend with me everytime.
when has your over-active imagination put limits on the way you live your life?