Normally, a gargantuan boom that rattles the windows and occasionally knocks loose objects from their place of relative safety is commonplace in our home, especially with all the fiber we’ve been gobbling down by way of kidney and garbanzo bean-laden chili.
But I was awake and lying in bed at 4am today and knew this odiferous-free boom was not auto-generated from my body, and therefore wasn’t my fault. Nor the dog’s.
In fact, we don’t have a dog.
I used to blame such events on our youngest daughter, but she’s old enough now to effectively protest her father’s unfounded claims that “she did it”.
So what had just happened? Had an evil-intentioned criminal busted his way into Casa del Mitchell? Did a car skid out of control on the ice and snow-covered road and hit the house? Had a nearby neighbor again blown up their home as a result of the “imaginative heating” systems often employed in the season other than the “mosquito season” here in Northern Illinois? And since we’re in questioning-mode, will the cast of Jersey Shore ever re-sign with MTV?
The savior of our family and all things emergencified, I leaped into action by slowly rolling over and nudging my slumbering wife, sans a reaction of course.
If at first you don’t succeed…. still nothing. Crap!
Frustrated and grumpy, I realized that ONCE AGAIN, I would have to inconvenience MY comfortable existence if I wanted any answers. Sheeesh!
I got up, armed myself, and hopped and twisted my way from room to room ala John Belushi (Animal House when he’s creeping around at night preparing to plant the horse) to ensure the safety and continued peaceful slumber of my family.
After an ever-so-brief stop in the kitchen for a quick breakfast burrito (1:20, turn over, then another 1:10 in the micro-nuker), I continued my search for the cause of the boom and shaking.
No car had hit the house, the deck had NOT YET collapsed due to the weight of the snow, and I could hear no screaming from the neighbor with the homemade wood-burning/natural gas heating system, nor any of that post-explosion smell of burnt, well, whatever.
Carb-laden and satiated, I yawned and returned to my warm bed, more sleepy now than curious. I slowly fell back asleep hoping to re-join my dream of me and Will Robinson’s sister (not Penny, but the older one) flying around in our jet-packs, already in progress.
I HAVE to stop falling asleep watching MeTV.
