Last night at about 3:00 or so I came wide awake after a door downstairs closed loudly. I listened, heart pounding, and could hear the stairs creaking slightly; I then woke Phil up and whispered that we might have a problem. Got out of bed, found my wooden dowel that I keep under my side of the bed, and tiptoed out. I had to cross the hall before I could turn on the light, which was quite scary. It struck me that a piece of wood a couple of feet long probably wasn’t the most impressive weapon against a thug…a good, American baseball bat would have been much more confidence-inspiring.
No one in the hall. We separated, and started looking in different rooms. Going into a dark room to turn on the light and see what might be waiting was quite scary. I found myself wanting to do that cop-show thing where they always kind of whip around corners with their backs to the wall, then sweep the room. lol… “Cover me – I’m going in!” So silly.
In the end, we of course found nothing, and so went back to bed. Phil keeps the bedroom window open because of his asthma, and there must have been enough suction down the stairs to pull the door shut.
I decided that I needed a bigger burglar whapper than my silly bit of wood. Cricket bat? Hey, that could probably whap the hell of of a burglar. :)