On the next episode of CSI: Karin’s House…

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This morning Mike went over to Marlene’s to supervise some work that was being done on their bathroom today. Baby Girl and I were hanging out at home. She took her nap. She woke up. Normal every day stuff. After she woke up, I put her down on the floor to play while I was playing on the computer and eating some breakfast a couple hours late. Oh, did I mention I was still in my nightgown? Normal lazy Saturday.

Anyway, I was sitting there typing away when I see a shadow walk past the front window. (Did I mention we still don’t have draperies in the house? So there are white sheets in the windows? Yeah.) Then the shadow moved toward the door and rang the door bell. Having grown up in a pretty bad neighborhood and then our first married house being in a not so great neighborhood, I tend not to answer the door if I don’t know who it is. Because usually they just go. away. At the time the doorbell rang I was on the phone leaving a message on a friend’s answering machine and in the message I described the fact that the doorbell was ringing and I was in my nightgown so I had to go get dressed. Had I known then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t have left the baby on the floor in her play area, but there you go. Anyway, I went back and got dressed and while I was doing so, the doorbell rang again. And as I was walking back out to the front room, Mr. Shadow knocked on the door. I still didn’t answer it, but I kept a close eye on him. Instead of going back the way he came I saw the shadow go past some windows on the other side of the house, which was odd, because that would not be the way to leave our property. Didn’t like that, so I grabbed the baby and deposited her in her crib, looked through the windows to see if I could find where he had gone, didn’t, decided he must have gone on his merry way, and headed back to her room to change the poopy diaper I had smelled when I picked her up.

At that point, I heard a doorknob rattling. Huh? Then, I heard the door from the garage to the house open. I know it was that door because we have a little windchime on it so you can tell when the door opens and closes. Nifty trick huh? If someone was in the garage, I reasoned, it must either be Mike (although he hadn’t called to tell me he was on his way home) or his work partner (although I couldn’t see any reason for him to be there that day). So, here is what transpired in the next couple of minutes.

Karin walks toward the open door.
Karin: “Hello?”
Unknown Person: no answer
Karin gets to the door and sees someone she has never before seen in her life starting to walk into her house. At this point all kinds of thoughts went through her mind like how the hell did this person get in my house because I can clearly see the garage doors are closed.
Karin walks aggressively toward unknown person and grabs the door.
I think Karin says something like what do you want or who are you but I don’t really remember clearly as I’m basically forcing him to walk backwards.
Unknown Person: “Is Charlie here?”
Karin: “GET OUT!” as I grab the door and slam it closed as fast as I possibly can and lock it.
Unknown Person: “What do you mean get out?”
I might have said “There’s no Charlie here” as I was slamming the door.

Did I mention Mike just fixed that door on Thursday because it wasn’t catching when you shut it? Interesting timing eh? Yes, I believe in God.

At this point I ran back to the bedroom, first grabbed the gun from its hiding place which I shall not share with you for obvious reasons, grabbed the phone and dialled 911.

I actually was fairly calm on the phone considering the fact that I was scared shitless and shaking like a leaf from the adrenaline. I gave them a decent description (it’s amazing what you actually remember when you’re terrified), and they kept me on the phone until the officers got there.

I stood in the hall between my bedroom and nursery until I knew the officer was approaching and then I put the gun down on the bed because they don’t like you to be holding guns when they come up to the house. I suppose that’s reasonable.

Anyway, the bedroom phone doesn’t work past the hall, so I hung up with 911 when I heard the officer knock. I checked to make sure it was indeed the police and let him in. He asks me a bunch of questions which I answer because I have to say if there is one thing I am fairly good at, it’s remaining calm under stress. Then he says get the baby and go outside and stand by his car.

He walks over to the garage door to look into the garage (it has a little window) and Majerle follows him. As I’m getting ready to walk out the front door to follow his directions I hear him ask if she’s feisty. I said she’s old and deaf and if she hasn’t growled at you yet, she’s probably fine. That describes Majerle today. Majerle of a couple years ago? Would have been barking at the front windows when he rang the doorbell (which would probably have deterred him in the first place) and probably would have attacked him or at least growled at him and scared him to death when he opened to door to the house. But Majerle today is retired from watch dog duty. It’s okay. She has done her job well over the years.

Anyway, I go outside with a baby who still has a poopy diaper because I still haven’t been able to change it and no shoes and wait on the street by his car as I was directed. I didn’t even take time to get the cell phone so I could call Mike which I wished I would have done.

Not too long after I’ve been there, another police car pulls up and the officer comes out to talk with the female officer that had just arrived. He yells some more questions from the front porch as she’s walking up and they go back inside. I see them up in the loft which has doors to a balcony, but the balcony has no access from the backyard unless you have a ladder. I see them wandering around the back yard with guns drawn. And then finally after probably twenty minutes at least, they come out to talk to me. I get a lecture about the gun (not that I have it, but that they like to know if there’s a gun in the house if they’re looking for a suspect). I tell him I told the 911 operator about it. Apparently she didn’t pass that on to him. (Not my fault!) They tell me that if anyone comes back and comes to the door and won’t leave to call them and they will deal with it. Then they tell me they checked everything and to go back inside and lock up. Which of course I do. And change the poopy diaper. Okay, actually I changed the poopy diaper after I called Mike on the phone.

Karin: You need to come home NOW.
Mike: Why? What’s the matter?
Karin: The police just left because some fucking idiot walked into my house. (If I say the “f” word that’s a pretty good clue to him that this is serious stuff.)
Mike: I’m on my way.

I thought the police had left, but Mike said they were still there when he drove up because they decided to wait around a little while and see if he came back. Mike thanked them for getting there so quickly (which they TOTALLY did thank God). And they told him to keep the doors locked.

Okay, now let me explain to you how he got in the house. He got in the house through the door from the garage to the back yard through the garage bathroom that Mike forgets to lock half the time. And which I yell at him about all the time. And then through the door to the house from the garage that Mike forgets to lock some of the time. Which I normally check after he leaves because I’m paranoid even though we live in a very safe neighborhood nowadays.

Don’t worry. I gave Mike a lecture about locking the doors. However, I think just the fact that some weirdo walked into the house and placed us in jeopardy was enough to shake him out of his forgetfulness. He told me he was proud of me, that I handled it well. I said that “GET OUT” came from the Mom in me. Ain’t nobody going to hurt my baby. No way. No how.

How did Baby Girl handle all of this? She was just fine thank you. Happy as always. Waving at herself in the window of the police car as we stood there waiting. I love that kid.

And what is Mike doing this afternoon? Well, he was supposed to be working on the kitchen cabinet type stuff. Instead, he will be installing a deadbolt on the garage door that goes to the backyard and a peephole in the front door.

The morals of the story?
• LOCK YOUR DOORS PEOPLE!
• Get dressed when your husband leaves the house.
• Stay calm.

Okay, back to my regular boring Saturday. I think I need a shower and a nap. *sigh*