Why we have a home security system....

It's been requested that I share this story....because honestly...it is pretty funny. Now.

We own a very nice home security system. It's an anomaly really, in our quiet, safe little town. Lots of people around here still don't lock their doors. But we now have a very nifty home security system, complete with a motion detector that the cats can set off if the band together in some rambunctious kitty playtime.

About 4 years ago, my new husband woke me up in the middle of the night (again) asking me "Did you hear that? What's that noise". He does this at least twice a week, so I told him to leave me alone and go back to sleep.

He doesn't let up though. "Seriously, did you shut our bedroom door? Or turn off the light in the family room?"

Well now, I had to think about it.....because I did have a few brief sleepwalking episodes as a youth...but no, I was pretty sure I hadn't done any of that. Jordan has always been a little skittish in the dark, so we leave a light on in the family room for him. And we never sleep with the bedroom door shut.

So now I'm awake and Chris tells me to listen. Really listen. And sure enough, we heard some rustling. Which could be those stupid cats, but then we hear some drawers opening and shutting. Which is not the cats. (Even the one with the thumbs hasn't mastered opening drawers).

We go into panic mode. I tell Chris to dial 911 and I tiptoe/run through the family room to grab Jordan. He was amazingly well behaved through the whole event. I grabbed him and had him in our bed before he was hardly awake. We whispered to him "Don't make any noise...there's a bad guy in the house!" He burrowed under the covers and didn't make a peep.

Chris whispered to me that the operator was sending police. We can still hear noises coming from downstairs, so I grab the most dangerous thing we own (a Maglite!) and creep to the door at the top of the stairs. I slowly pull the door shut.....but no way am I letting go of that doorknob. I've got the doorknob in one hand and a Maglite hefted over my shoulder in the other. I'm also trying hard not to hyperventilate and praying harder than I ever have in my entire life.

Both boys are on the bed, peering at me. Chris is still on the phone with 911, but we hear the cops arrive and he hangs up (because that's what you do when help is here).

We can hear the police start shouting "Sir, do you live here? Stop where you are, put you hands where we can see them."

Then the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. Chris is freaking out and telling me to get back in the bedroom as he's going to barricade the door, but I'm just frozen there....me and my Maglite, holding the door at the top of the stairs shut.

I hiss at him to call 911 again, and he does....while dragging a dresser over and blocking himself and the boy in the bedroom. The operator informs him that she is sending backup.

Backup? That's not exactly what I want to hear!

Now we can't hear anything from downstairs. Just silence, forever.

Then footsteps on the stairs. Heavy footsteps. And panting.

So when I said I was hyperventilating and praying before....yeah...more of that again.

Eventually this person gets to the other side of my door. He knocks and calls out "Police, are you all okay? Open the door."

I (not so politely) respond "slide you ID under the door."

We then proceed to have an insane conversation that police are not allowed to carry ID, that I should really open the door for him, and I'm telling him that's not going to happen anytime soon.

Finally, this man (who does happen to be a cop) sighed and says "Ma'am, I took a shot of pepper spray to the face and I'm going to go outside and throw up now. I'll send someone else up to check on you and your family"

He does send up another very nice officer, and we creep out of our upstairs. We call Chris's parents, who are here in no time. None of us can be downstairs for any amount of time because just the pepper spray fumes from the officer's clothing make us cough and gag. They have us come out on the porch to see if we know the intruder (we do not) and I apologize to the poor officer who's just finished puking in the bushes. We find out later his arm was broken in the struggle (and most of the pins and badges from his uniform are lost forever under our porch).

The miscreant that they caught was just going out the back door when the police arrived. He had my son's backpack (homework included) slung over one shoulder and our bucket of spare change in the other arm. Into the backpack he had thrown an array of stuff including: social security cards, Chris's passport, Chris's wallet, power screwdriver, wrenches and other assorted tools, trumpet mouthpieces (?!?), and our video camera.

Turns out this guy is a registered sex offender. Before we woke up, he had been in our bedroom and most likely in our son's room. I really think that God kept our family safe that night....because we had the best possible outcome of a very scary situation.

So there you have it. Now when my husband wakes me up at night with his breathless "Did you hear that, What was that noise" I do at least give a little listen before I tell him to let me sleep.

The story is really much more funny if you have us tell it in person...because we're the crazy kind of couple that like to demonstrate much of the action. Invite us to your next party, we'll provide the entertainment.