Picture this, if you will. 😐

We spent the last hour searching for missing chickens (turns out we just can’t count), in the twilight darkness of our farm.

There’s no moonlight, only the beams of our flashlights and phones illuminating what’s in front of us. Hanging off the front of the barn is our black-light blue bug zapper, making electrical noises like you hear in haunted houses. It’s totally silent, except for the crunch of gravel and wet grass under our feet.

It’s a bit foggy out, and the ground is wet from a heavy thunderstorm from earlier in the afternoon.

I’m walking back from our garage with Sierra, who was putting her bike away. She didn’t want to go alone, because she’s afraid of the dark. I’m looking at the ground, using only the beam from my phone to light the football field length between the house and the garage.

Suddenly, a loud roar comes out from a large pine tree in front of us in the darkness, and something comes barreling towards us.

I scream bloody murder and throw my arm out to protect Sierra from the creature from the darkness. And pee my pants ever so slightly, because I’ve had four babies and that’s just how life goes.

And then … in the light of my phone I see Randy, doubled over wheezing with laughter. From 3 acres away, I hear my neighbor yell out what “what the hell was that?”

“Sorry!!” I yelled, my voice raspy from my best Janet Leigh in Psycho impression. “My husband is an asshole!”

… and this, ladies and gentlemen, is why women live longer than men. 😒

Good night, I hope you enjoyed tonight’s bedtime story. 🥱

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