Saturday, February 13, 2010

A story about...

A year ago today I joined the blogging world! To help me celebrate, please leave a comment if you happen to stop by.

Now to the story:

When I came home this afternoon from seeing a movie with a girl friend my front door was open. Not wide open, just slightly ajar. I wasn’t too concerned as this has happened before when I haven’t pulled the door tight enough and a breeze kicks up. My friend, however, was not as unconcerned. She didn’t say much, simply “That’s a little scary.”

“That’s a little scary” was all it took to kick my imagination into high gear; visions of a murderer/rapist hiding in a closet waiting patiently for me to settle in before sneaking out to commit damage to my person ran through my head. Is it obvious that I watch too many crime shows? I jokingly told her that I would load my gun and check the house to make sure all was well.

What started as a joke became reality as, upon entering my house, I headed for my bedroom, checked the closet then pulled my gun from its super secret hiding place and quickly loaded it. At this point I began yelling;

“If anyone is hiding in here be warned, I have a loaded .357 and I WILL shoot you!”

At this point I made it to the bathroom, pointed my weapon at the shower curtain and swiftly pulled it aside.

“I’ve been trained by the Department of Corrections and know where to aim for maximum damage.” This is not entirely correct. My dad does work for the DoC and instructs me, whenever we go shooting, where to shoot in order to inflict the most pain and suffering. 

After clearing the bathroom, I head down stairs and do my little imitation of a police officer peering from around the wall at the landing before I take the final few steps.

"I will not hesitate to shoot off your (insert vital organ here)!"

I walk into my son’s bedroom and check the closet as well as under the bed.

“I am accurate at 100 feet so imagine the damage I will inflict on you at three!” Slight exaggeration - I have no idea how accurate I am at 100 feet but I can’t miss at three.

Back in the hallway, I check the utility closet just in case someone is hiding by the furnace and water heater. I check the office and storage area and pronounce the place, “All clear.”

As I am stalking through my house, loaded .357 revolver in hand, I realize how ridiculous  and humorous this is but at the same time am proud of myself for actually looking and confidently warning any intruder that they are about to be blown to kingdom come. Although I hope I never have to put my bravado to the test.

Annie Oakley

5 comments:

just call me jo said...

We used to call our daughter Annie Oakley because she's quite the markswoman and she's a hunter. It's neat that you CAN use a gun. (Though not all people agree, my husband has a gun located in a secret hiding place too and he will use it--he constantly tells everyone.)
I'm glad you were safe. Let those "burgerglers" beware.
Happy anniversary on blogdom and Happy Valentine's Day.

Megan Rees said...

I'm actually quite impressed. It woudln't occur to me to even LOOK. (Plus you wrote this really funny...) And that you HAVE a gun and actually know how to use it. That's pretty great. We'll get one sometime, but not until I've had gun safety lessons. I'm a little nervous about having a gun in my house--but for situations like this, I bet it's nice to have some extra protection!

Cynthia said...

Dog dang girl! I will ALWAYS make sure I call before coming by! LOL!

I'm rather proud of you too. I want to learn how to shoot but not until the cost of ammo comes down. I'm glad it was nothing concerning- well, nothing concerning for you, it would have been mighty concerning for anyone hiding!

just call me jo said...

Won't we be glad when visitors leave. Nice to have them. Nice to see them go. I'm exhausted. You're right--the demands just keep coming. Am I doing something wrong? I don't remember my own child being that demanding.

Pam said...

Congrats on one year of blogging! I am impressed with your bravado. I could aim at *the vital organ* and possibly hit someone's toe. : )