Friday, January 22, 2010

Rain Monster in the Garage

My husband came up with that title. Insisted on it, actually.

Wednesday, it was raining like crazy! And, having moved to California from Oregon, I don't say that lightly. I had a couple of errands to run after work, and I don't own a rain jacket, and we can't seem to find any of the three umbrellas I know I owned in Oregon. I know I had at least one of them in California a few years ago. But we can't find them now. So I was totally drenched when I got home. I thought, rather than track all of this water all over the house, I'll just come in through the garage, take off my wet shoes and clothes, and hop in the shower.

Usually, my husband knows when I get home. Frequently he hears me pull into the driveway, or sees my headlights, and more often than I'd really like to admit I do something brilliant and accidentally push the panic button on my car's lock zapper thing, and then the entire neighborhood knows I made it safely home from work.

If all of that failed, the garage door makes a ton of noise, both opening and closing. I entered the garage. I took off my wet clothes. I tried to open the door from the garage to the house. It was locked. I knocked, thinking maybe hubby was enthralled in a sports game or something and mistook all of the noise I just made for wind or neighbors or aliens landing in the front yard or something.

Then I heard the water heater kick into life, and I thought, oh, he's in the shower. I'll just wait. But then I thought I heard him call my name, so I knocked on the door again and called his name. But he didn't open the door, so then I thought maybe he hadn't called my name and that what I heard was the wind or the neighbors or aliens landing in the front yard.

Then this entire interaction happened again. I think I hear him call my name, so I knock on the door and call his name, and then nothing happens, so I think, ok, so he's still in the shower...I'll leave him a text to come let me in when he gets out. He doesn't take long showers, so I figured, at most, I had about five minutes to hang out in the garage...I could start some laundry or something useful.

And then I hear this panicked "VIRGINIA?" and I holler back "Let me in the house!" and he yells "What are you doing in the garage?" and he finally lets me in. And then he says "I thought something was trapped in the garage. I almost got my gun." Lovely.

I said, "Did you see how much it was raining? I'm wet and my shoes are squishy. I didn't want to track water all over the house." Of course, at this point, he had tracked water all over the house, since he hopped out of the shower mid-wash. Nonetheless, this water was likely cleaner than whatever I would have been dragging in.

Wet, cold, and annoyed, he shook his head at me and declared "You're the rain monster in the garage."

1 comment:

  1. I told Lynsey about the rain monster in the garage because it was crazy raining here, and we both had to strip off our clothes in the entryway after a run. Thank Goodness Pete was in the living room! :)