But What Are You DOING Out There?

I was up later than normal last night, waiting on my husband to get home from a late work shift.

There I was on Facebook, at 11pm, updating my status with the normal useless information.

All of a sudden, it hit me. I had no coffee for Monday morning.

Yep. No coffee on Monday is not a good start to the work week for me. I know a crisis when I see one. Since there was no one to talk to at that hour, what else to do, but mention my total lack of coffee on Facebook.

Super neighbor to the rescue, I quickly got a message back saying, ‘I’m up, come over and I’ll give you coffee.’

At first I declined. I was, after all, in all pink pajamas, my hair standing half on end.

I thought about it for another second and realized, who cared about how I looked, no coffee the next day was LESS APPEALING than my appearance.

And, my husband wasn’t home from work yet, what could go wrong?

I hopped up out of bed, smushed my hair down, and ran out the front door, my house lit up like a flood light, front door still unlocked.

I tippie toed through the wet grass, barefoot and braless, and ran the 50 feet of concrete between our two houses, into her house where she was ready with my java rescue.

We chatted for about 3 minutes, and I ran back outside.

And what, can you imagine, did I see?

My husband’s truck in the drive way.

AND, the house I had just left lit up like the 4th of July only five minutes earlier, was totally dark.

There I was, outside, in my pajamas, no house key, in the dark, at almost midnight.

This was like a bad movie scene.

I knocked on the door, worried that the house was so dark?

I thought, ‘great, he just came in and went straight to bed! Surely he noticed my laptop ON THE BED WITHOUT ME IN FRONT OF IT?’

I rang the doorbell, but as I’ve mentioned, OUR DOORBELL DOESN’T WORK.

NOT COOL when you are on the OTHER SIDE OF THAT DOOR.

I start knocking. No answer. I knock some more. No answer. I knocked some more and really thought Mr.Wonderful had, in all of three minutes, arrived home from work, changed clothes, and was sound asleep.

Getting desperate, I looked up into Tyler’s bedroom window, saw the TV going and started to look for rocks to throw at his window to get his attention.

Yep, there I was, a 40 year old woman, looking for things to throw at my teenage son’s second story bedroom window, at midnight.

Not exactly the female I’m sure he would have been wanting to see beckoning him from below.

Right about then, I heard footsteps, just in time.

If I had thrown a rock at that window, any rock, I would either have broken a window and scared the beejesus out of Tyler, or it would have bounced off the house back on to my head or something and I would have been out there bleeding as well.

So, my husband came to the door and what did he do?

Let me in? Nooooooo!

Instead, he peeked through the frosted glass and said, WITHOUT OPENING THE  DOOR, “What are you doing out there?”

I said, “OPEN THE DOOR!”

Slight pause, and he shouted through the still closed door, “BUT WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT THERE?”

What the heck? Did he think I had Jason from Friday the 13th hiding out there with me?

I said , “I’M TOILET PAPERING THE NEIGHBORS HOUSE, WHO CARES, OPEN THE DOOR!”

Finally, as if I needed a secret code, I said, “I WAS GETTING COFFEE OPEN THE ^#$%$$# DOOR NOW!”

The door finally opened.

Sheesh!

I said, “did you not notice my absence in the bed?”

He said, “yeah, I was about to start looking for you. I just never thought you would be OUTSIDE.”

 I need to find out where we keep our spare key.

I mean, what if I had been out there like half naked with no make up on in the middle of the night?

And we are SO getting that doorbell fixed!

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