Probably not THE most childish
but probably the most recent.

I'm rather partial to sneaking up on my partner and jumping out on him, ie if I get home and he's in the shower, or not heard me come in, the shoes come off and the creaky floorboards are avoided.

A few weeks ago, he was on a work-type do out, had a few drinkies, came home late. I'd been home alone all night and had just thought about getting ready to go to bed when I saw the taxi pull up outside (the road's down a load of steps from our flat).
I snuck out to the hallway (we have a non-traditional layout here: you come in through the lounge, bedroom to one side, hallway to rest of flat to the other) and hid behind the hallway curtain in the dark. In he came, light on in the lounge, heard him glance into the bedroom and then charge through to the hall.
Of course my timing was executed perfectly. He did not expect this in the slightest and granted me the split-second utter panicshockfear face I had hoped for, then backed away looking pissed off - for longer than usual.

Apparently he'd come in, concerned the door was still unlocked at this late hour, no lights on, seen that I was sat not at the computer, nor in bed (the usual haunts).
Noticed a note next to the computer.
Realised that for most of the last week I'd been at rock bottom, crying constantly and querying the point of life (had a miscarriage and my world fell apart).

He'd thought the worst and imagined I'd gone and done myself in, half-expecting to find me on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood or something. Not to find a cackling idiot half-wrapped in curtain pointing and howling with laughter.

Poor boy.

NB, in no way am I making light of suicide, I actually think the fact he thought I'd have done this was really sad. I'm more amazed that for a couple so close, we were so worlds apart that night.
(maggotriddendirtbox fast, feral and sharp as a tack since, Fri 18 Sep 2009, 10:34, Reply)