A couple of months ago I lost my husband…in our house…for about six hours.
Yes, you read that right. Take a minute to read it again if you need. I’ll wait…
A few things are worth noting here:
1) My Husband HAS disappeared before. PTSD is a bitch. We’ll talk about that one day.
2) Our house is not big. It only has 4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a kitchen/dining area, and a living room.
3) He was driving a motorcycle at the time.
4) It was a dark and stormy night. (What a great line.)
I call him every day when I leave work and head to pick up the twins. He let me know that he was about to leave work but when I got home his motorcycle wasn’t there so I assumed he’d been tied up at work. An hour later I started to get irritated. After another hour that irritation turned into worry. He wasn’t answering his phone. None of our friends had seen or heard from him. One more hour passed and I was irritated again. I loaded the twins up and drove by his office to see if he’d fallen asleep there or something (desperation). No dice. Also, no motorcycle. I was full on mad now. I went back home and decided that I’d go to bed. He’d come home when he was ready.
When I woke up at 1am and he still wasn’t there I freaked. I tried calling him again and this time he answered. I was at once relieved that he was alive and ready to run him over with the Mom Van for disappearing. I demanded to know where he was. He was confused, “What do you mean where am I? I’m in my office.” I ferociously responded that he was not in his office and that he could kiss my butt if he wanted me to believe that because I’d driven by. “No,” he said, “I’ve been in my office.” I continued to argue until I heard the door to his HOME OFFICE open and close.
He’d been in the house the whole time. He explained through gales of laughter that his boss had brought him home so he wouldn’t have to drive in the rain. When he got home he’d gone into his office to fix a recliner that my father in law had brought over a couple of days before. After he fixed it he sat down and fell asleep. His PTSD had kept him awake for a couple of days leading up to this and he’d finally just crashed. I’d never even thought to check there because his motorcycle wasn’t in the driveway and all the doors were closed to the room like they normally are. I then had to let all of our friends know what happened and that he was safe. He thought it was hilarious as did his boss and all of our friends.
Mom brain is real ya’ll. If he ever disappears again I’ll be sure to check his office first.