I had a heart attack / intruder alert this morning.
I was sitting on the computer this morning at 5am, happily drinking a cup of coffee and reading blogs, when I heard the door squeak in the laundry room.
Now, the laundry room is in the back of the house, and just inside the back door. This is the door that from the moment I get up in the morning, until the last thing at night, is always unlocked and usually open.
At first, I thought my young part-time permanent care lad had gotten up to go to the toilet... and my heart leapt in joy at the thought of no more night time nappies (diapers), but when I glanced down the hallway, I saw that his door was still firmly closed. Uh oh.
Then I heard the door squeak again, but this time there was some thudding going on as well.
So I did what any self-respecting woman would do.
I grabbed the rubber spatula out of the dish drainer and snuck off down the dark hallway.
I mean, if there's a balaclava wearing, machete wielding intruder in MY house, I'm certainly not going to turn the light on so that he can see me better and aim for my jugular vein, am I?
Let him take a few non-lethal, "I can't see in the dark either" swipes first, so that I can judge the best time to smack him with my rubber spatula and put him out of commission...right?
So as I round the corner into the laundry room, 2 of my big cats jumped down off the washing machine and they went barreling off, skittering sideways, into the hallway... like the hounds of hell were after them.
It scared the bejeebers out of me, because these are brave cats and they only act like that when they are sh** scared of a Doberman or something.
So someone IS here and they're hiding in the toilet waiting to wield that machete!
With that... the door to the toilet squeaked again, something thumped again, and I knew it was Do or Die time...
So rubber spatula in hand, I tried to fling the toilet door open, but I met resistance!
Oh S**T Oh S**T !! He's IN there!! Someone is in my toilet waiting to murder me!!
Do I call 000 (911) and let him hear me, so that he knows he has approximately 56 minutes to kill me and still have time left over to steal my TV and snow globe collection, before the police respond, or do I just go for it, and teach the arsehole a very valuable lesson?
I decided to teach him a lesson he would never forget. I'll teach HIM not to mess with an abscessed-tooth-crazed, high on Metamucil and antibiotics menopausal woman. Enough is ENOUGH, and it's time to stand up and take charge!
So... grasping the rubber spatula just a little more firmly, I reached out and flung the door open again, screaming YEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAHHH, don't mess with ME, you scurvy bastard!!!! And THIS is what I found...
Did you know that if you scare a kitten bad enough... by screaming and whizzing a rubber spatula right in front of his face, little poops shoot out his back end?