Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Chickens at the door

The more I read what other soldiers' mothers have to say, the more similar our fears seem to be. From a Time magazine story "A Mother's War". . .

. . . The grandfather clock in [this Mother's] house chimes nine times when the other clocks say it's noon because the grandfather clock is set to Baghdad time. [She] has figured out how to tell if someone is in her driveway by squinting at the reflection off a certain glass-covered picture in the dining room, so that if it should ever be two men in uniform, [she] will know they have arrived before they start ringing the bell and before she is obliged to look directly at them and hear what they have come to say.
My method is to freeze wherever I am and scream at my husband "WHO IS IT?, WHO IS IT?" Several Sundays back I was upstairs getting ready for church when our two dogs starting barking wildly. There WAS definitely someone or something OUT THERE -- no doubt. And I was definitely not going downstairs to face them. From the top of the stairs I yelled to my husband in my best panicked voice: "WHO IS IT?, WHO IS IT?". My husband can't seem to look out the door either, so he looks out a window on the side of the house. It's CHICKENS! Probably 10 chickens had found their way into our yard -- one even onto the roof of our neighbor's house. We were both put into a state of terror by CHICKENS! Harmless chickens. Not "two men in uniform"; chickens. I love chickens.

3 comments:

Stacy said...

I too had a very simular situation, but I was at home all by myself sitting on the front porch with the dogs and saw a large black car coming up the driveway. It was only the appraiser, but before I knew that, I was calling my husband on the phone screaming and hollering at him that this car was pulling up the driveway.

I know for a fact that this man will never drive up my driveway again without calling first. What he saw and heard from me scared him so bad I think. I was a basket case for the rest of the night.

Until someone has been in our shoes, they have no clue what it is like to have that fear of "that" knock on our door. You are not alone, and I would have to say from experience that it is normal to feel so scared to answer that door.

We are here for you.

jan wesner said...

I write a blog for the St. Pete Times called "Standing By." I'd like to interview you for my site. Check it out at blogs.tampabay.com/standingby and then drop me a line at either standingby@tampabay.com or janwesner@yahoo.com

Thanks!

liberal army wife said...

I won't answer the door. period. Didn't when my son was in the Sand, don't now that it's the husband. My friends all know to call first. the workmen all drive pickups. Since I have the house up for sale, I've told the realtor to call first!

chickens... oh that must have been a trip. THIS is the story you will all laugh about when they come home.

LAW