Panties and Heart Failure

 Yes, I know it's been a while since I've blogged, but I have tried to reserve blogging to when I have something mildly interesting to tell.  So here are two tales from my weird life:

Okay, many of you know that my house is haunted.  

Most of you probably believe that I'm on something, or it's just my imagination.  That's fine.  Actually, we rarely get activity.  It's a pretty chill spirit, whoever it is...or was.  But occasionally, it decides to make its presence known, as it did the other day.

I was in the bathroom, and I had forgotten the need for a clean pair of undies. 

This is a situation that no one wants to find themselves in, so naturally, I hollered for reinforcements from my daughter.  Ethan was at esports, and I wouldn't traumatize the poor boy by making him retrieve a pair of my dainties.

Livi had been chatting with me through the door, so she said okay and....I guess she wasn't moving quickly enough for our ghosty.  The next thing I know, she lets out a surprised squawk, like a slightly irritated parrot.

She then said, "What? Why?  What on earth?!"  After I inquired as to what the matter was, she  indignantly replied, "Somebody just threw a pair of my underwear and hit me in the head!"

"What?"

"I just got hit in the head by a pair of my underwear!  I guess I wasn't moving fast enough for the ghost."

There's really no way to respond to that.  After all, I was still waiting on my underwear.

The weird thing is, this next story was far more terrifying to me than anything a ghost has ever done.  Again, Livi and I were home alone, with Ethan at esports.  Our usual routine is, she comes home from the bus stop, chats about her day if she feels like it, and then scuttles off to her lair to hide from everyone and thing.

I typically turn on the cartoon channel (30.7), and relax to some "classic" cartoons, while playing a game on my phone--before I have to go and retrieve my son from practice.

I was trying to unwind from a stressful day, when Kona the wonder moron started barking his head off.  This is not uncommon.  Kona barks at every little noise, movement, stray quark, what have you, that has the misfortune of coming to his attention.

In these instances, we holler for him to shut up or be quiet, which results in a gradual, begrudging, lower-grade volume barks and muttered woofs.  Not this time.  He was in full-on, "I WILL NOT BE SILENCED, HOOMAN!" mode. I glanced over the sofa, and I noticed that he wasn't in front of the front door, but facing the laundry room--where the door from the garage and art room is located.  I set aside my phone and went to see what he could possibly be barking at, when I saw the door knob slowly turning.  Someone was trying to open the door.

*Important information*

**I was a latch-key kid.  My parents had hammered into my brain that, even if it's broad daylight, you have the door locked.  Therefore, at ALL times, all my doors are locked and the garage door is down.  If a window is open a crack, it has those little triangles that prevent anybody from opening the window further to get in.**

Immediately, my body goes into fight or flight.  Pancake chose flight, Livi chose freeze, and Kona chose to be annoying.  I had seen enough news stories of people hiding out and living in someone's attic to know that this was a possibility. You see, when you come into my house from my garage, there's a little addition room, (Livi's art room) and a spare room.  To your right, there's a wooden door, which was originally the door leading into the garage.  We keep it shut, and if we're not going anywhere, locked at ALL TIMES. 

I realized that I left my phone on the couch, so I grab Livi's cell, saying: "Somebody's trying to get into the house."  I'm about to call 911, but I decide to do two things...1.) Look through the peephole and 2.) glance out the living room window to ascertain whether or not there's a car in the driveway or nearby.  Phone clutched in hand, ready to dial 911, I press my eye to the peep hole, only to see a face staring back at me.

It was Ethan.

I think I peed a little.

By this time, my heart-rate was probably at an unhealthy rate.  Livi's anxiety disorder had served her up a huge panic attack on the house.  I flung open the door, wide-eyed and panted: "Did you just try to open the laundry room door?!"

"Yeah.  The garage door was wide open--why?"

Two things hit me at this moment.  I always close the garage door.  Why on earth was it open?  Secondly, what on earth was Ethan doing there?  It was almost time for me to retrieve him from practice.  In fact, my phone alarm started going off.  Livi wanted to inflict violence upon my first-born, but I managed to convince her that was a bad idea, so she went off to recover from her panic attack in peace.

Turns out, Ethan's coach had decided to have the students stay at the school for practice for the remainder of the year, instead of going to UCO.  My son, instead of informing me of this fact, simply called my sister and had her pick him up and bring him home.  I still have no idea why the door was up, but can only guess that Livi and I each didn't realize we'd closed the door, and therefore it got reopened.  

Now I need more clean underwear.