On Being Burgled
So every noise, every sound, every suspected trespasser, every imagined suggestion of a break-in, she bolts awake, wakes me up, and makes me check for burglars.
Every time - quite obviously - I've returned to bed, unable to find the intruder, and she's sat up like a nervous wreck because she's expecting someone with a bag marked "SWAG!" to enter our home at any moment.
Now we skip to tonight - a quarter of an hour ago in fact.
It's not quite 1am. As per usual, I am exhausted, miserable, in a lot of pain, poking around on Facebook and reading and what-have-you.
Shockingly, Kellie is sprawled across 97% of the bed snoring and drooling, while I am squished against the wall. Not snoring, not drooling, and not sleeping.
Being that it is a Sunday, the outside is veeeery quiet. And, being that I am me, my BATLIKE hearing is listening to the sounds of the house wind down.
Then I hear a thump, just outside the kitchen window. I freeze my questioning of whether or not moths have a tummy, and listen harder. I hear another noise that, while I can't place it, it's not a "Normal House Noise" A moment later, I hear a sound from the kitchen itself, the sound of cutlery being disturbed on the draining board.
I start to - very quietly - untangle myself from Kellie, whom is doing her best impression of the Indian Goddess of Kali, she of the many many arms. At the same time, I am also trying to get the wire out my phone.
I hear a couple of glasses in the kitchen very faintly clink together. Not loud, but definitely a sound that should not be happening in our kitchen at 1am.
I think back. The door was definitely shut. I've not heard any of the kids creep down in order to get a drink - they sneak like elephants in wellie boots. Kellie was definitely knotted against me. I was in bed.
I hear another thump in the kitchen.
So now I can picture it in my head - someone has slid the window open, and climbed INTO our kitchen, disturbing the odd item as they slip into the house...
To my utmost shock and surprise, a moment later, I hear a noise in the very room in which I am sitting bolt-upright, listening, one of the wardrobe doors is nudged, and then one of the handles on the dressing table rattles...
A few moments later, I am untangled from Kellie, my phone is phone unplugged, and I'm now mentally scanning our room for something weapon-like that isn't going to actually KILL someone. While the law has been changed, I don't fancy the hassle of getting arrested for killing an intruder. I decide that I'm going to leap out of bed - stark-balls-nekkid - grab the hair dryer from the floor, and use the plug on the end as a weapon.
Let's be honest, it hurts like a motherf$cker just stepping on a plug - imagine getting smacked by one by an enraged nekkid bloke.
I can feel the adrenaline running around my body. I'm enraged that someone is trying to get into MY house. I turn on the torch on my phone and start to launch myself out the bed and directly towards the intruders...
At this exact moment, a white cat - a white cat that is neither Gimli (who is black) nor Galadriel (who is tabby) jumps up onto my bed about eighteen inches from my face.
It freezes. I freeze. A nano-second passes, and both of us crap our proverbial underwear. It flies off out back through the kitchen, and out the window, and I am left sat on the end of the bed, naked, shaking like a leaf, my heart making enough noise in my ears to wake the neighbours, clutching my phone/torch in a death-grip, wondering what the holy FUCK just happened.
A few moments later, I hear The White Cat barrel over the fence in the back garden, probably spooked as much as me, vanishing into the night...
And so now, at 0115, I've had to come and sit upstairs for a bit to chill out, let the adrenaline dissipate, and try and get my brain back into some form of order that is not "Must. Kill. Bad. Guy!"
And, oddly, James and I were talking about mad adrenaline rushes earlier today. Go figure.
So NOW, I am sat here wondering if Kellie has, in fact, been hearing The White Cat break into our home, and disturb her just enough to realise there's something out of place, but by the time I've gotten up, it's done a runner and over the fence. Has Kellie been detecting the cat burglar in her sleep?
Kellie, the girl that doesn't hear the child sat beside her ask a question. She that cannot hear when I shout up the stairs "whaddayawantferyerdinner?!"
Is she, in fact, a budding Crazy Cat Lady, with an innate skill of Detect Cat That Is Not Mine?
I shall question her in the morning, regardless of your favourite blogger being able to get back into some form of restive state... We shall see...