Insomnia made me delusional. That explains it. Longing for sleep, I passed time contemplating cruel punishments to silence my snoring spouse.
That’s when I spotted the floating, bright white orb out of the corner of my eye. Once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.
The white light glowed brightly, hovering in the darkness of my husband’s closet, in amongst the shadows of sweaters and T-shirts. The light was shapeless. It was the oddest thing. It was freaking me out.
I looked around the room to see if this was a reflection, but the only light in the room was the dim clock radio. Nothing out of the ordinary.
If I moved a little to the left, the light disappeared, but if I rolled over, there was the bright, white orb waiting for me. Did it move? I thought it moved.
I waved my hands and arms around, to see if I could make the light go away – you know, in case it was a ghost who didn’t like jazz hands. The orb didn’t move. Great, must be a performance ghost. Weird.
I didn’t dare get out of bed to do that whole “walk to the light” thing because, first of all, I’ve seen enough horror films to know that never ends well, but more because I knew that if I got up, I’d need to go to the bathroom, and then I’d get cold, and then be even more awake and I’d never get back to sleep.
All I wanted was sleep.
Outside my window, the full moon was high in the sky. A beautiful sight. Maybe that’s why I was wide awake at 3am. My inner werewolf and all (I wouldn’t laugh at that if I were you. Grrr).
Wait a minute, I thought. Hold on. Wait. Full moon. Reflecting light. Carpenter’s closet. Ugh, that was it. The Seattle Seahawks jerseys. This was Russell Wilson’s fault.
It’s been hard to watch the love of my life feel betrayed by his former star quarterback. He was blindsided last March when Wilson broke his word to never leave the Seahawks, accepting a trade to the Denver Broncos.
Denver? Talk about adding insult to injury. The Carpenter stomped around the house looking a little lost and disillusioned for weeks.
So, on the first Seahawks game of this season, the Carpenter took down his favourite, ugly action green Wilson jersey and modified it with a large strip of heavy-duty grade aluminum foil tape to erase the Wilson name and all reminders of the former quarterback from his beloved NFL team.
The navy jersey got the same treatment.
You don’t want to know what happened to the little Wilson figurine. Best you don’t ask.
Ah, but in the moonlight, Russell Wilson was having the last laugh. The jerseys hung in the darkness, side by side, exposing the shiny tape just enough to reflect the full moon’s glow at 3am into an intense orb of light.
It was funny, when I figured out it wasn’t a ghost. But who’s laughing now, Russell? Huh?
Look what happens when you break my Carpenter’s heart.