We were robbed last night.
I woke up at 2:35AM with a start. Light from the garage was pouring into my bedroom windows.
“That’s weird,” I thought, “I swear I turned that light off before I went to bed.
I threw my wife’s red robe on and walked downstairs to flip off the switch to the garage, beside the front door. I reached my hand around the corner and stopped cold. The switch was in the direction I had flipped it earlier, which meant only one thing – the garage light had been turned on from inside the garage.
I mustered the courage and then peeked out the window, staring at the light and the garage for a few moments, waiting for burglars to bust out of the garage, carrying away my plywood scraps, old chairs, kayak with a hole in it, and a tent that leaked when the sky sneezed. I even flipped the light off and on a few times to let the thugs know I meant business.
Groggily, I climbed the stairs again, to find my slippers. I had no interest in chasing a fleet-footed, Amazonian woman in bare feet, though, with my ample callouses, I wouldn’t feel a thing, even if I had reason to chase her over hot coals.
“What are you doing,” my wife asked, irritated?
I explained. She shot out of bed, grabbed a robe, and told me to follow her.
I obediently hid behind her, making sure to touch her butt, so she would have moral support. We walked outside together and walked to the garage. Everything was buttoned shut. Nothing was missing. Turning around, I noticed our old grill missing, our shiny new one, sitting in its place.
“Oh right. I told Josh to come and get the old grill. His wife said it would probably be the wee hours of the morning.”
Disaster averted, we went back to bed. My hero status would have to wait.