So...we've had some break-ins lately...both in and around our neighborhood.
It's not that we live in some ultra-swanky (or even nominally-swanky) neighborhood...we must just look like easy pickings.
Before we left on vacation, Mr. Always Random was nervous about leaving the house.
My point was that there would not be anything irreplaceable in the house which could be hurt, destroyed, or stolen.
Not even Indy (although this was much to Mr. Always Random’s chagrin) could be taken by a thief in the night, since he was staying at “Camp Jackie” while we were away.
Reluctantly my husband agreed with me....but was still a little nervous.
So we went on vacation. As you probably can assume, the house was still standing and nothing was stolen while we were away. I would have probably told you about it by now.
We weren't even broken into.
The thieves would have been disappointed if they had targeted us.
So...why am I telling you all this? Seems superfluous, doesn't it?
I'm all about setting the scene for you. I’m a full-service, scene-setting blogger. You might have to pay a little extra for it, but I think it’s worth it, don’t you?
Anyway…I awoke the other night...well, morning, I should say (it was four am)...soaked in sweat.
Now, lest you be confused, I assure you that I am NOT going through the change. My doctor tells me I am not. If anything, it is because I am SO young that it is highly unlikely.
Sometimes I do wake up dripping from head to toe...but that's not what I was planning to tell you about. It also relates to female issues, which I suspect the males (though there are only a handful of you who read this blog) don't really want to delve into...so we won't.
I was sweating because it was stifling hot in my room.
As I threw back the covers, I noticed something peculiar: my bedroom door was closed.
We do not sleep with the door closed. The PBA sleep with their doors closed, but we do not. Apparently we think we’re immune from possible smoke-inhalation, should a fire break out in the middle of the night.
Actually…it’s because it is stifling hot in our room if the door’s closed at night. Every time the PBA have friends spend the night and they sleep in the living room, Mr. Always Random closes our door. And I hate that.
He doesn’t read my blog very often so he won’t even know. I’ve told him but somehow this bit of information has not stuck in his long-term memory.
So I continue to be irritated.
Of course, when I awoke on this occasion and saw that the door was closed (and I knew the PBA had not had friends spend the night) I smacked Mr. Always Random and yelled, "Why is out door closed?!?"
As he "came to" from his abrupt awakening, he mumbled that he didn't know.
Ought oh...there's trouble.
Immediately, I jumped out of bed and began processing what had likely happened: someone broke into our house and closed our door, lest we hear the torture which ensued in our children's bedrooms.
Nothing could have convinced me otherwise.
Perhaps I should stop watching all those crime dramas before bed. For the record, I don't watch ones involving young children (or ones with children my own kiddos ages), because it feels too personal.
But nonetheless, I was certain I knew what happened.
Imagine my surprise when the door opened easily because it was unlocked. Surely someone attempting to keep me in my room would have at least locked the door to cause me to pause for a second...and probably put something to block the door as well.
Yes, too many crime dramas for me.
I ran to the 10yo's bedroom, and opened the door. He was snoring away, wrapped up in all his covers. The fact that he did not wake up when I opened the door was a minor miracle b/c he's the lightest sleeper on the planet.
He might have been drugged to keep him asleep...sometimes that happens (on crime dramas), but even I thought that was a little far-fetched.
One kid ok: check.
I ran to the other bedroom and opened that door. That kid DOES NOT WAKE UP FOR ANYTHING. And when I opened his door, he sat up.
Perfect. I scared him.
And then I tried to comfort him, assuming he wouldn't remember anything in the morning.
Well, I knew he was ok. Two kids ok: check.
I double-checked the windows and Mr. Always Random checked the doors. Nothing was amiss.
Well, I take that back. The pillows on the coach didn't look quite right. And yes, I straighten them up before we go to bed...because if someone were to break in the house, I would want them to pause and appreciate what a tidy housekeeper I am. They would do that, right?
Anyway...so WHY was our door closed?
I still didn't know, but being as how it was 4 in the am, the desire for a touch more sleep overtook my desire to figure out this conundrum.
So I went back to bed.
And in the morning, when I got the 12yo up for camp, the first thing out of his mouth was, “Did you come in my room last night?”
Of course I told him the truth, but I didn’t want to tell him why…I didn’t want him to be concerned about it.
Or about me…that I thought a sadist had broken into our house and was torturing our children while I slumbered away in my room.
“Yeah…I woke up and my bedroom door was closed, so I was just making sure you were in your bed.”
However, before I could add anything else, he said, “Yeah, I closed it.”
“Oh really? Why did you close it?”
“I was out there watching TV.”
Oh ok…so you’re clearly still asleep right now, and simply talking in your sleep. But I decided to bite. “Really? When were you watching TV?”
“Well, I woke up and thought it was about 6. I felt a little tired, but I got up. I didn’t look at the clock.”
“So I shut your door and watched an episode of Doctor Who.” (That show is going to be the death of someone in our family. Sure, it’s entertaining, but he’s kind of addicted, and the On-Demand feature in our new cable system doesn’t help his addiction.)
“OK…and you didn’t look at the time?”
“Well, after I watched it all, I thought it still seemed dark outside. I figured it should be getting light out by then, since I had watched a whole episode. When I looked at the clock it said it was only 3.”
“So I turned off the TV and went back to bed. At least I went back to sleep!”
Always the optimist… "Well yeah…but I thought you were dead! Why didn’t you open my door?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know why I did any of that. I can’t believe I did that. I do remember having some trouble turning on the TV…”
Perhaps we BOTH need to lay-off the TV before bed...