Okay, I didn't almost shoot the sheriff. I don't even know who the sheriff is. But I got you here, didn't I? And I did almost shoot someone, so don't leave. I have candy...
So, a few background details. I have a cold. To combat this cold, I have been taking cold medicine. Genius, right? Cold medicine has a weird effect on me recently - I get a liiiiiittle loopy. Not like I think my elbow is my new best friend Henry kind of loopy; more like I probably am not making the soundest decisions kind of loopy.
The next important detail is that Daniel got a new gun recently. It's one I can use easily and since there have been a few burglaries in our hood (don't tell my mom! Mom, if you read this, I'm just kiiiiidding) I made sure I was really familiar with it. Don't cross me.
That brings us to Saturday night. I had taken the cold medicine, and Daniel went to go get dinner as it was getting dark. There had been roofers on our roof earlier in the day. So there I was, watching TV - not Dr. Quinn, thankyouverymuch - when I heard some scraping noises on the roof and on the walls outside. I figured it was the roofers and turned up the TV. When I heard it again, I realized that roofers probably don't work at night, and maybe it was the cat. The cat was sitting next to me. Hmm. Then I saw police lights on the road outside, and from there it took me .328 seconds to decide we were being robbed... from our wall and roof, two stories off the ground. I warned you about the bad decision-making.
I called Daniel and heard the glorious ringtone I chose for him go off in our room - he had left his phone at home. Okay, no problem. I decided I need a plan of action. First, I put on a jacket, then figured I should get some shoes I could run in. I chose my zebra-striped fuzzy boots/house shoes with the pink trim. No reason to look like a bum while I'm escaping, right? Then I got the gun, and went to our deck door. I shouted "WHO'S THERE" in my most menacing tone (which I realized later probably sounded like a very scared, possibly drunk child). No answer. So I threw back the blinds and opened the door while preparing myself to bring somebody DOWN if I had to.
No one was there. Were they hiding? Had they heard me shout my scary words and decided not to mess with this? That was probably it, but just in case, I looked extra-dangerous as I locked the doors and told Batman not to worry.
That's when I heard the footsteps. If there were a soundtrack to this story, this would be the DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNN track.
Now if you heard someone pounding up your steps in a seemingly angry/robbery fashion after all this, would you think it was your husband returning home with dinner or an evil bad guy who had narrowly escaped your clutches on the porch and was now back for revenge? Exactly. So I did what any reasonable and slightly inebriated person would do - I hid behind our loveseat with the gun in my hand. As I heard the lock turn, I thought It's weird how the robber found a key. Then as the door opened, I popped up, heart pounding, bravery churning, ready to run as fast as my zebra boots would take me, only to come face-to-face with... Daniel. Most of you probably saw that coming so I had to add the extra tension.
To Daniel's credit, when he walked in the door to find his wife pointing a gun at him, he didn't flip out. He just stepped to the side, walked over to me, and after I told him what had brought me to this situation, nodded and said, "Good job - I'm glad you were prepared," and we went about our business as if it was totally normal for one of us to think the other one was going to steal our worldly possessions and worthy of pointing a loaded gun at. Eh. Just another day in the life for the Elevelds.
Interestingly enough, today when I was cleaning - okay, looking for my pajamas - I didn't see the gun. Daniel must have moved it. OR WE WERE ROBBED. DUN. DUN. DUNNNNNNN...