My husband would be an awesome serial killer

Many of you have heard my tale of how I almost shot Daniel. It all started when I heard scary noises on the roof, and ended with me pointing a loaded gun at my husband. Afterward, he told me that the noise was probably raccoons - we live near a wooded area and they apparently enjoy trees. I don't know; I don't really know much about raccoons. Except that they make good hats.

Fast-forward to a couple of weeks ago, where I woke Daniel up in the middle of the night (which is hilarious to witness, by the way. I highly recommend it. He's a flailer.) after I heard some scraping sounds on the roof. I'm no 'coon expert but these footsteps were heavy and seemed to be in the attic space above our ceiling. Raccoons would likely be on the actual roof. The attic space is used by the complex and is padlocked shut; we can't use it. I was convinced that a tiny little person (or a tall person who didn't mind rolling around up there) was living in our attic, waiting for us to leave during the day so he could steal our things and eat our cookies. But when Daniel checked the attic space, the padlock was closed and from the looks of things, no one had been there in quite some time (thanks for all that maintenance, apartment complex). Curiouser and curiouser.

Keep fast-forwarding to tonight. Daniel and I were sitting on our respective couches when we both heard a scraping sound above us. I jumped up and shouted "SEE I TOLD YOU IT'S A PERSON THEY MUST BE LIVING THERE WE'RE GONNA DIE WHY DIDN'T YOU LISTEN TO ME AHHHHHHHHHH" and then literally jumped up and down for a second in anticipation of running for my life. I was wearing my zebra-striped fuzzy boots again so I was totally ready.

Daniel goes and loads the pistol, finds the flashlight, and goes out to our porch. I was instructed to stay inside and guard the cat, which I later realized was code for "Kristen is bad at being sneaky." It's true. I am the least sneaky person ever. My four-year-old nephew is sneakier than me. So Daniel is out on the porch, moving around like a ninja, ducking and weaving and matrix-ing and at some points moonwalking. I am inside, my face pressed to the glass, and Batman beside me with his face on the glass. He likes glass. He started licking it. I didn't lick it but I did draw a little smiley face in the fog my breath left.

After nothing happens for a minute, Daniel says loudly, "Must be nothing, I'll come inside." Being the extra-helpful person I am, I flipped on the porch light, opened the door, and asked why he was coming in. If he hadn't had a gun in his hand I'm sure he would have facepalmed - he was apparently trying to trick the unseen robber into showing himself. Oops. In my defense, Daniel knew I wasn't sneaky when he married me - I was always very open about that.

So now he has to sneak back onto the porch, and I see him unload the gun, then load it back really loudly - this, I discovered later, was to strike fear in the robber's heart. Then Daniel looks at me, points to his eyes, points to me, points to the left, and points up. I thought he was having some sort of attack, so I just stared at him from the other side of the glass door. He motioned again. I stared some more. He motioned so wildly I thought he might fall off the porch, and then it hit me - he wanted me to go over to the window and see if I saw someone on the roof. Ohhhhhhhh. I couldn't see anyone from the window, so I made my own crazy gestures back - I waved my arms real wide and shook my head, like I was begging a plane to not come in for landing. He got the message and I went back to the porch where I could see better.

Finally, we were ready to give up - and then I heard the noise again. I made the airplane motion and pointed to the ceiling, and I could tell Daniel heard it, too. He looked at the roof and jumped (like he was scared, not off of the porch). I also jumped and stepped on the cat. My bad. I should join the CIA.

Daniel called me outside and told me to look at the roof. I looked at the top of the roof - nothing there. He then told me to look underneath the roof, in the rafters. And sitting there, looking ever so slightly chagrined but not really all that sorry, was a masked... raccoon. A raccoon. A raccoon who had figured out how to get into our rafters and subsequently into the attic space. A raccoon who had then invited his friends and had commenced partying over our heads for the last month.

So it turns out no tiny people are living in the attic. Which is a relief. I guess if I had to choose between a dwarf robber and Roscoe (the raccoon - I named him after my great-grandfather!), I would pick Roscoe. He's kind of cute. In a creepy, please don't dig through the ceiling and jump on me in the night kind of way.

But the most important lesson learned is this: Daniel is a flippin' ninja. I dare you to rob us. No - I double-dog dare you. NO. I TRIPLE-DOG DARE YOU. But be warned, though you may not see it coming, though you may never hear the footsteps of the one responsible for your demise, though you may think your crimes will go unnoticed, heed my words: Daniel and Roscoe are watching.

How I almost shot the sheriff

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...