Sleepus Interruptus

It had the beginnings of such a good night's sleep. We had gone to bed at ten. I had actually gone to bed at the same time as my wife, which has been a rarity since the baby was born. We talked for a bit. We cuddled for a while, and then I rolled over and went to sleep. Let me tell you, I went out cold. I was dead to the world. I don't think I was even having a dream at all. It would have been so fantastic to wake up with about eight ours of sleep under my eyelids. However, it was not to be. Around three a.m. I heard some people talking outside. Now, one would think that when you're outside in the wee hours in a neighborhood that's quiet, you would talk fairly quietly as well. They weren't. They were talking in their normal voices, chatting away. And we do live in a quiet neighborhood, except for the occasional toilet-papering across the street, lover's quarrel next door or the birthday party involving explosives across the yard. Being the non-confrontational guy that I am, I was hoping they were just walking by and things would quiet down again so I could get back to being dead to the world. They didn't move on. In fact, I heard a dog out there with them too. Another noise to annoy. I thought about all of the things that I should say: "Hey guys, some of us have to work in the morning." or the ever popular "Shut it!" I got out of bed, fumbled my glasses into place and looked out of the blinds. It wasn't just Mr. Random Person and friend. It was a couple of police officers. Their car was parked across my driveway. The lights weren't on, we had heard no sirens, but they were there with a German Shepherd. My wife made the comment that it was the second time they had been outside our window and earlier they had mentioned something about "checking around some houses." Normally, I'm not a very nervous person, but when I start thinking about the possibility of my home being invaded, I start asking quite a few questions:

"Did I shut the garage door after getting back from Un-named Fastfood Place?"

"The backdoor was locked, right?"

"I know I shut the window in front before heading to bed, but did I shut the one on the side of the house?"

"Did I leave the iron on?"

So, there I lay, asking these questions and straining my ears to hear anything that might possibly be out of order while cursing the likes of Pearl Jam and Nirvana for making me listen to their music so loudly that my hearing is shot. Regretting the fact that I didn't have any sort of heavy object with which to thwack an intruder. Finally, after an hour, I went downstairs and I read for a bit (after checking to make sure everything was in order). A half hour after that, it was, as it usually is about that time, 4:30. I figured it was time for me to try falling asleep again, the night's potential for good sleep already ruined. The story really ends uninterestingly, as most of mine do. Hey, I've made it nearly 30 years without having an interesting ending. Why start now? I got up, showered, ate my bowl of cereal, and I'm heading off to work in a minute. Maybe I'll swing by someplace and buy a bat. A bat just right for thwacking.