The Dreaded Ringing

I have a big family.  Not a ‘Cheaper By The Dozen’ type of big, but also not too small.  Six people.  My parents, three younger brothers, and I.  And as those of you who have siblings probably already know…  It’s really noisy.  All. Of. The. Time.  I stay up fairly late and sleep in late as well.  I wake up late in the morning to the sound of birds chirping three boys running around, fussing, complaining, and making a whole list of other noises.  Not a day goes by that I don’t hear several arguments among my brothers.

I mean, I sit in my room at my computer all day.  But I can still hear them.  It usually goes something like this:

A sudden yell of:




Some argument may follow.  But don’t worry, it almost always ends with that meat-slapping noise that you hear when someone has just been punched.  Sometimes it continues into crying, a frustrated yell–with another punch–or if the victim is actually in pain and isn’t just over-dramatizing it, there will be several seconds of heavy silence where the victim doesn’t speak, but the ‘puncher’ (who has usually, by this point, realized that there may be consequences for his actions) repeats something along the lines of:  “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!”

But there are also plenty of jokes and laughs, so–no–it isn’t all just punching.  Sometimes it’s kicking, shoving, or even biting.

And of course there’s the constant noise of the TV, a computer(s), or something being thrown around/any other noise that they can create.

So imagine that you have lived with this for almost your whole life.  Then, suddenly, it ceases.  Because they all went somewhere.  Somehow, someway, they all went out somewhere and you have the rare chance to do…  Well…  Anything you want to.


Whenever I am left alone in the house–completely alone, not even parents–I find myself in a situation that I both love, but am uneasy with.  I am now alone, in my house, able to do whatever I want.  I can play video games on the TV or watch shows on the TV without having to take turns.  I can sing as loud as I want to.  Etc.  But it’s really quiet.  So quiet, that I start to notice the noises of the house, that I hadn’t been able to hear before when my brothers were making noise.  These are noises that I’m not used to.  And my wonderfully huge imagination doesn’t let this opportunity slide.


Earlier, home alone, I decided to take a shower.  I didn’t have to worry about clogging up the bathroom while I was the only one there, so I took my time.

I was mid-way through washing my hair, when I heard a dreaded noise.  The doorbell.  I have been told countless times to, ‘not open the door for anyone when I’m home alone’, ‘don’t talk to strangers’, and ‘don’t even peak through the blinds to see who it is, because then they’ll know that only you are there’.

Well.  Those rules flashed through my mind, and I started to panic.  Heart thudding, I turned the water off.  And I listened…  Hearing nothing.  So trying hard to push it away and calm myself down (I have a tendency to panic over things) I turned the water back on and resumed my shower.

Then it came again.

And I froze, eyes wide, trying super hard (but not succeeding very well) to stay calm, as I realized that somebody actually was ringing our doorbell.  And that it was probably a psycho killer or Voldemort.  And that I was standing butt-naked, hair slathered with soap, in the shower.  This was probably the worse time somebody could have rang that doorbell.  Whether they be Voldemort, or a friend.

So I rinsed my hair, and scrambled out of the shower–just in time to catch a glimpse of an unrecognizable car driving away.  But I saw this through the blinds of the bathroom window.  While inwardly panicking.  So I didn’t even take into account what color the car was.

Oh, and of course, I remembered this video, and I hoped dearly that I wouldn’t end up in quite that same situation.


My next step?  Barricade the door, zombie-proof the windows, and bring out my trusty lightsaber, obviously.

AKA:  Facebook messaging my mom.


And I still don’t know who that was.  But hey.  I’m fully clothed, and nothing happened.  So I’m fine with leaving it there.




2 responses to “The Dreaded Ringing

  1. I remember my little sister (probably 3x as loud as your brothers) had to go to the hospital for a day or two and Mom went with her. I didn’t miss Josie – just the noise. It was strange.

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