…is something I really should avoid.

Last night, at about 12:00 or so, I was sitting in my room, playing around with my web cam, actually, and decided I was hungry. Not an unusual thing, so I picked up my laptop (ohhh yes I’m addicted) and headed to the kitchen. Halfway there, I stopped.

I could have sworn I heard the sweeping, scuffling noise that bare feet or socks make on a linoleum floor. Now, I’ve always prided myself on not being a skiddish person. I don’t scream or scare easily. And I always assumed that when presented with a situation like this, I would calmly and quietly make my way to my parents room and ask my dad to investigate (well, actually, if we’re being honest, my daydreams may have gone a little more along the lines of morphing into Nancy Drew and cleverly spoiling the criminals plans). It, therefore, came as a great dissapointment when I instantly spun around and bolted back to my room, quickly shutting the door behind me. I placed my laptop on my dresser and just stood by my door, listening for any sound – and believe me, I heard sounds…for two hours. LITERALLY.

1. I did not turn into Nancy Drew (this was, of course, the greatest dissapointment…)
2. I did not run to my parents room
3. I did not dial 911 (I actually might have if I owned a cell phone…)
4. I did not scream for help
5. I did not hide under the covers (for this a have a molecule of pride left…)

You want to know what I did?

I stood there, like a statue. I just stood there, stomache twisting whenever I heard the “robber” moving around. And again, I was 87% convinced of the fact that someone was inside the house! And then, once past the moments of being frozen, I sat down on the bed, and my morbid brain thought of the things that were likely happening.

I kid you not, I thought about all of these…

1. The suffocation of all my family members. I would finally venture out to be the only Hutson alive in the house

2. The sleeping gas tube that might be shoved under my door at any second (I think this is from some show as a kid…)

3. What I would say if the door opened to reveal a ninja-like masked bandit

4. What a pathetic coward I was that I couldn’t do anything

Finally, in resignation that the robber(s) were most likely just the stealing sort, and would take what they needed and get out, I lay down on my bed.

And then I did hear footsteps down the hall.

And a door opening down the hall.

More footsteps.

I sat up; I stood up.

Slowly took a step towards the door.

The door flung open, and I jumped, clutching my heart – it was my dad.

I don’t remember the last time I have been more embarressed. Really. It was the most humiliating experience…I wasted so much time…and as a result, I slept WAY too much today. Got very little done, mostly just what I needed to do.

But ah well…got a little story out of it, at least.