It was a not-so-bright, not-so-sunny afternoon. Hubby N was away at work. Little M was at her sitter's house. I was working on my computer in the study, sipping a refreshing hot cup of coffee. The only sound one could hear was the clack-clack-clacking of my keyboard. It was a nice, relaxed kinda afternoon.
Suddenly the calm was shattered by the sound of the television in the next room. I went cold! There was no one else at home but me. Who could have turned the TV on? My heart dropped! There's someone inside my house! I thought. How on earth did he get in? Something you need to know about my house - there is no sneaking about here. Only because everything in the house squeaks - the doors, the windows, the floors and heck, even our cat Ginger, who prefers to squeak rather than meow! So this person must have been hiding inside my house all along!
What do I do? Call 911? And say what - "my TV came on?!" Yeah, that sure sounds like an emergency! Wait..how about my knight in shining armor? Yes! Maybe he can help! So I call him (that was N, by the way!). And got his voicemail! Rats! Now what do I do?
I grabbed the heaviest thing I could find - one which I could hold comfortably in one hand, yet be able to cause decent damage to the intruder's skull when I whacked him - a narrow but heavy vase. I wanted the intruder to think me unsuspecting. So I carried on a pseudo-conversation with the dial tone on the phone. Let him think I'm talking to someone and can out him anytime, I thought, walking into the bedroom, phone in one hand and the weapon..er..vase in the other. Heart racing, hands clammy but raised to strike, I walk into the bedroom and.....
there was Ginger sitting on the bed, next to the TV remote control - she had accidentally pressed the 'on' button!