<I have these bad wake-ups, wake-up stress,
foxhole wake-ups, because I'm always waking up to, oh, burst plumbing, a truck jumping the curb and hitting the phone pole, cat and raccoon gladiatorial maulings in the tree right next to the room, wind blowing the roof off ~ you know, terror.>
Sometimes, you make me glad I live in the big city. I don't worry about anything unless the alarm goes off. Half deaf anyway. Wife hears cat clawing its way across the roof and wakes me up "I heard something outside. It woke me up."
Lessee. The dog is quiet, the neighbor's dogs(shihtzu yappers that bark when an acorn drops) are quiet, no alarm, nutthin.
In the interest of domestic tranquility, ol' protector crawls outta' bed in his drawers, stomps through the house stumbling over the grandkids stuff they left last night, making his rounds.
When he gets back to the bed, guess who's already snoring?
Did get a drunk trespasser once. moanin' in the back yard. 'twas kinda' comical how sober he got looking at the wrong end of the shotgun whilst granny called the cops. I think the whole scene was probably surreal.
Me in short pants, no shirt, what hair's left sticking up in all directions, and a single shot shotgun in one hand; Granny in her jammies, shaking like a leaf, trying to dial a portable phone; and the drunk trying to crawl back toward the fence with our little white dog licking his face.
Funny now, but the adrenaline was sure flowing then. Turned out he was trying to short-cut through our place to get home. I wouldn't file charges so the cops took him home to sleep it off. He later made a point to come apologize. |
