As you know, if you read this blog, which clearly you do, since you are reading it right now, my husband and I moved into our new home just a week and a half ago. Three days after moving into the house, he had a business trip that he needed to make, to India for 8 days. Normally this would be fine. I would be lonely, and I would complain for days, but I would survive.
This time, we had just moved into a new house, and there are a few things you must know about me.
#1 - I hate being alone. Hate it. I love people. I love being around people. I don't enjoy personal space. I required a babysitter until about age 15 because I hated being home alone so much.
#2 - Strange noises freak me out. To a ridiculous level. When some people hear a noise, they assume it's the washing machine, or the plumbing in the home. When I hear a strange noise, I assume it is a home invader. I'm pretty much a 'worst case scenario' type of person. Whatever is happening, I assume the worst.
#3 - I am jumpy. Super jumpy. Like when someone comes around the corner unexpectedly - I am the girl who screams bloody murder.
Not a good combination when you are charged with staying home alone, for 8 days, in a brand new house that you do not know well.
Sunday night I was home alone, unpacking some boxes. I took the dog out on the side of the house to go to the bathroom. I looked out past the deck, and noticed footprints. A fresh line of footprints, in a fresh yard full of fluffy snow.
I quickly grabbed the dog, and pulled her inside. I ran to the rear mudroom door, turned out the rear outside lights and noticed more footprints, running from the other side of the house to the backyard. I shut off the lights, ran away from the door, brought the dog up to the master bedroom closet to hide, and called my Dad.
The conversation went something like this:
"Dad, I need help, someone is hiding out in my back yard!" I screamed
"Excuse me? They're doing what?" He responeded
"Yes, I have seen tracks, there is someone, possibly two people, they have walked into the back yard, and they are hiding out back there, I need help." I screamed, in a manner so fast most humans could not understand what I had said.
"I'm on my way over." My dad responds.
The dog and I continue to hide in the closet, waiting for the lights of my Dad's car, too afraid to emerge, worrying that the stalkers will choose that moment to attack.
My Dad emerges from his car holding a flash light, and a stick. He walks on the side of the house with his stick, and his flash light, ready to attack, the prospective attackers. I am inside at this time, shadowing his path on the inside of the home. Keeping low to the ground, in case of attack.
My Dad knocks on the side door, startling me. I cautiously open the door, and he asks me to come outside with him. Unsure that I want to die this way, I follow him, knowing that these could be the last steps I ever take, but also trying to rationalize that he would not put me in harm's way.
"Are these the tracks you saw, Kara?" He asks in a very concerned manner
"Yes, those are the tracks from the people, where are they?" I ask
"Not sure where the people are, Kara, but these are deer tracks. Maybe raccoon, but probably deer." He explains
"People AND deer?" I ask.
"No, Kara, just deer. You have no people in your back yard, just animals." He responds
"Oh, right, right, I knew that. Deer tracks. Yep, deer."
Fortunately I learned we have animals in our neighborhood, not home invaders.
Maybe I should turn off CSI, and turn on Glee. Or maybe Jeremy should just return from India, to continue to quell my neurosis.
