More than ten years ago (but my husband remembers), I turned the light out and started to climb into bed when I felt something moving around near my ear. Shrieking, I asked Sam (who was already snug in bed) to turn the light back on. My distress escalated, and I found myself screaming, begging him to please hurry.
When he got to me, I was cupping my ear. As I let go of it, I released a small flying insect. “Why didn’t you just shoo it away?” asked Sam. At that, I started to cry. And he could see I was upset. Then, we both got back in bed; as we snuggled, I continued to cry and fell asleep.
The next morning, I remembered what happened. And, with a sheepish grin, I said to him, “I wonder if I had some traumatic experience with an insect when I was a little girl.” Clearly (to both of us, I’m sure) I had overreacted.
It was later that day when I realized what actually transpired. For sure, I was startled by the insect and felt helpless in the dark. But when Sam responded with obvious nonchalance to my distress, I lost it and started crying.… More