The phone rings. But not at the White House. At our house, which is kind of a taupe-y color.
Ryan scrambles to find the phone, bewildered and panicked because of the hour. I, on the other hand, have yet to wake up enough to realize that it is, indeed, the middle of the night and we don’t normally field phone calls at this hour.
He’s bumbling with the phone and I’m trying to calm him down because he often wakes in the middle of the night completely panicked and usually struggling to save us from the giant spiders, serial killers, and rabid hamsters that haunt his dreams when he is particularly stressed out in real life. And I am so used to these middle-of-the-night dramas that I don’t even have to wake fully to tell him that he is dreaming; that our life is not in danger; that he can set down his invisible bazooka and come back to bed.
Needless to say, it takes me a long while to catch up and realize that this is real life; that the phone is actually ringing and that when he answers, it is ADT on the other line letting us know that an alarm is going off in the house. In my half-sleep I assure him that everything is fine, an alarm going off in the middle of the night is no big deal. Happens all the time. Then I pulled the blanket up around my shoulders and laid my head down, anxious to get back to the puppies, unicorns and clearance sales of my interrupted dream.
We pause—Miss ADT holding on the line—and sure enough, we finally hear the sound of the alarm downstairs. Still, like one of Pavlov’s dogs, I am conditioned to believe we are not in danger, not in the middle of the night.
Ryan is saying things like, “which door?” and, “no, nobody should be coming in that door,” and, “we’ll go down and see” all the while searching for his pants, because if there’s anything we understand about personal safety it’s that you cannot properly defend your home and family in your underwear.
At this point, I bid farewell to the matching cashmere sweaters I was buying at 90% off for myself and my pet unicorn. Apparently we are going downstairs to check things out. And I’d like to point out here that I go to bed each night prepared to properly defend my home and family—in pajamas.
We make our way down the stairs and wander blindly through the kitchen and see the door to the garage wide open. Is it because there is not a man standing there in a ski mask or in full mountain man garb, is that why we almost immediately assure Miss ADT that everything is fine? That the left-unlocked door has blown open somehow on its own? I guess so.
It is only after we turn off the alarm and hang up with her that I flick on a few lights and make a sweeping, bleary-eyed glance around the room. Yep, everything is fine. And as we head back up the stairs, I notice my purse sitting on the counter. Even though I know everything is fine, I decide it would be a good idea to make sure my wallet is still inside. And it is. I’m suddenly peeved that I’ve made this very unnecessary trip downstairs.
Within a few minutes, we are back in bed and I am well on my way to the annual unicorn Christmas ball. I allow only a couple annoying thoughts to creep in before I make my grand entrance to the ball in my gown made from butterfly wings and angel teardrops:
1) It is possible that there is some kind of intruder in my house, especially if he had the good sense to hide behind something in the several minutes it took us to get down the stairs.
2) We neglected to check on our kids before climbing back into bed. What if someone came and took one of them and all I checked was my wallet?
I shove these silly thoughts aside, roll over, push them out from beneath the covers over and over with my big toe until I finally get up, and check on the sleeping lumpy shapes of my kids in their beds.
I do not, however, check the house for a hiding intruder because I have lost too much sleep already. I am acting on principle now! If someone is hiding in the house waiting to kill us and steal our Christmas presents, then he will have to wait until morning when I can react appropriately! I am late for a poetry reading with the fairy queen for crying out loud!
But I sleep the rest of the night with Ryan’s invisible bazooka under my pillow, just in case.
I hate it when that happens. We have no alarm system. But occasionally I come home to a door sitting wide open (usually left so by me without realizing it) or hear a loud thump in the night. And my husband always grabs his handy golf club. To fend off giant golfballs, I guess. Still, I usually find it way too easy to fall back asleep after such an incident. I’m not missing any sleep for burglars, for sure. Killers? Um probably not them either.
you have the most awesomest dreams ever!
(glad you are all ok)
Too bad it wasn’t Ryan having a dream, and you lost some of those precious hours. The midnight dramas must run on “that” side of the family! Val thought the country was “under attack” one time during a thunderstorm, and apparently Dave has awakened to find Andrea looking for the scissors to “cut hair”!(Does the exclamation mark go inside the quotation marks?)I haven’t heard of Alison having an issue that way. We will have to do some homework! Loved the invisible bazooka!
Ok, you are much more brave than I am because my heart is pounding just reading this. I would have freaked out and asked the cops come check out our house.
Nice work staying calm.
I think you should keep the invisible bazooka with you at all times for a few days, just in case this intruder is hiding out, just waiting for the right moment to make his move.
I needed some milk from the fridge. I’m sorry for all of that missed sleep. Next time I stop by I’ll make sure it is during the day.
Happy Dreams
I want you to know I was on pins and needles during your whole post.
Glad you are ok.
Are you ok? Ryan? Max? Christian?
The bazooka is an important asset to insure safe sleep. I’m glad you have one on hand as well.
You have the best blog posts EVER! This blog very possibly could be the most entertaining thing in my life at the moment. Thanks, Tiffany.
What a rude awakening! I am glad that you’re all ok. You handled the whole thing pretty well. An open door in the middle of the night would have really freaked me out.
By the way, I got your card and letter – both so very nice. I put one of the infamous Silent Night cards in the mail to you
.
Thanks for the always great blog! Yours is my favorite.
You two are definitely good for each other. Calm is good only if the other half is fully alert and aware of potential danger. Way to go, Ryan. I recommend a hand gun over an invisable bazooka, however. But I’m just the mom here.
Okay, that is my worst fear realized. When we put in our alarm I felt much safer. But then Matt asked me once, what will you do if it goes off in the middle of the night? Um, the answer to that is FREAK OUT! And I’m surprised you could sleep through your alarm. The Anglins wake up when ours goes off. Hopefully, anybody stupid enough to break into our house will leave quickly enough when they realize the only things to steal are clearance clothes from Target and TV’s that aren’t even ready for the digital signal.
precisely the reason i sleep with pajamas ON! you never know. i get made fun of, but if i have to run out of my house in the middle of the night, or fight an intruder (real or imaginary) i’m doing it with my clothes on!!
did you check the basement? There is that scary robot thing down there . . .
Congrats to you for being able to go back to sleep. If anything remotely close to that ever happens at our house, I get an elephants dose of adrenaline flowing through my veins and it takes a couple hours to fully calm down.
I bet it was Santa – on a dry run