It was 1:00 am. The wind had yet to kick in so I was sleeping soundly.
Until I heard the doorbell ring. At 1:00 in the morning. Cue frozen Michelle in bed knowing that a meth head serial killer was moments away from murdering me.
Before I could just ignore it (yeah right) there was a violent knock knock knock at the door. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.
I woke my husband up and I was scared. Wouldn't you be? Another ring of the doorbell, another aggressive knock at the door.
And then light shining into our house. Aliens? Methed out serial killer?
My husband went downstairs as I begged him not to just answer the door without questioning who was there. He didn't listen. I stood in the loft armed with my cell phone to call the police, my entire body was shaking and my heart was pounding so fast. I was expecting to hear the worst sounds from my husband. And then....
He went outside. I opened the blinds in the loft. I saw a police car. I heard my husband speak.
Police: "your trunk is open. There have been a string of break ins so I wasn't sure if that was what happened here."
Husband: "No she was out at her car earlier tonight."
I moved girl scout cookies from my car to his and somehow forgot to close my trunk.
So thank you policeman for scaring the ever living CRAP out of me in the middle of the night. But also thank you for patrolling the neighborhood. And I know you thought perhaps a theft took place but....
You could have just closed the trunk. :)
P.S. This is my 1,000th post. WOW!