I'm going to be bad and post about this thing that's happening at my house.
Even though my good husband said "You'd better not post about this!"
Because I'm pretty sure he said it, but what he really meant was,
(wouldn't this be kind of funny to post?)
I'm hoping, anyway.
So you heard a bit about the fact that there were some people who were not very nice to us a couple of days ago. We still have not heard about anyone finding the truck. Or the people who were not very nice. Actually, and surprisingly, I'm kind of okay with it now. I mean, no one got hurt, right? And we learned some valuable lessons (like not to trust anyone?). And that we need to forgive our enemies. That one's still not being completely embraced by ALL of us, but we're thinking about it. R wants one of those bumper stickers that say 'mean people suck.' Please allow me to digress, and give you a little bit of background, so that you understand what's going on here.
I guess I'm kind of assuming that you WANT to understand... well, whatever. Read on if you want to. Stop here if you don't really want to spend the time. I'm okay with it either way. That's one of the advantages of this world. No hurt feelings when you shut me down.
I grew up remembering that when you wanted to know where the car keys were, you always started with the ignition. And then the dash. Maybe the floorboard. I'm pretty sure we didn't even OWN a house key. The door was always open. Well, I also recognize that times are-a-changin' and we can't be so cavalier about home security. When I married Mr. W, I quickly learned that he was more of the Fort Knox mentality. I would, from time to time, smother twinges of annoyance as I struggled to get in my own door with arms full of groceries, or baby carriers or both... because I expected the door to be open, and I then had to fumble for keys. Actually, I probably didn't so much smother those twinges. I made sure he understood that I was irritated that I had to use a key to get IN. So in the interest of marital harmony, this became one of those little 'things' that I was willing to put aside. Not to say that I was very interested in keeping things locked up, just that I was willing to unlock the doors to let myself in.
SO... this sweet, protective husband and father became a territorial totalitarian after we were trespassed against. No time had passed since the truck was discovered missing, and he was making plans to re-key the doors, install motion detectors and set alarms. I'm talking airport security here. He is the handiest guy EVER. He'll plan it and then DO it. I mean HE'll do it. So the labor of love begins. And by the end of the evening, we're all tucked in. Secure. We're talking details. But I shan't give away all our security secrets. Just let me make sure you're convinced that ALL the i's were dotted. EVERY t crossed.
Night one. Right about 3:30 AM, we hear an alarm. Someone has tripped a sensor. Believe me, there was NO time between alarm sounding and feet hitting the floor. The events of the day before were VERY fresh. He grabbed the baseball bat and went quickly down the stairs. I just sort of rolled over to look out the window, since our yard was lit up like Fenway Park. Sure enough, I saw the movement. A little skunk was waddling across the driveway. My man came back to bed smiling and satisfied. There will be NO sneaking around our yard. Oh no.
So later the next day, he calls to tell me about more upgrades to the security. He's starting to throw around terms like razor wire, lasers, sensors, trip wire, camo and war paint. He's wanting to adopt the code name Johnny Rambo. Kind of joking, but kind of not. He wanted regular updates on the lock-down of the house. The second night: he's got plans to add. More security. PLEASE. To my friends. Do NOT come to my house at night without calling first. There has been some damage here. It's all very fresh. This is a man who did not want ANY external lights on because they cost too much money. Now we could land small aircraft on our driveway at night. We now have trust issues. I actually did get permission to post this, because I got part way into this and thought twice. But we had to go through the internet safety precautions list first. To quote an old police TV series I used to watch: Be careful out there.