My Garage Is Protected and Served

Okay, so I haven't been sleeping. Mostly due to Sam not sleeping (he's the 2 year old), but lately because everyone else in the house is sick. Not pukey sick, but coughing sick. The kind of coughing that keeps me awake.

I'm a light sleeper anyway...a few years back I heard a mouse walking on our carpet that woke me...so all of this hacking was absolutely heavenly. It's been going on for what feels like a few months, but in reality is only about a week or two.

Last night, though? Things looked incredibly promising! Ethan (he's the 6 year old) only coughed himself and me awake once, at around 1, but then a glass of water later, he was soundly sleeping. No sound from Sam's room, and everyone else was breathing softly. I ACTUALLY thought that I'd get a good 5 hours in.

The fuzz had other plans.

At 3 in the morning, I was dragged from the blackness of my sleep to the sound of hammering. No, that's not quite right...pounding, but on our front door. Someone was pounding on our front door.

I looked out our window to see a police cruiser (no lights on) parked on the street in front of our house. The police! I shook my head clear enough to realize that I was in my underwear (which is fine for the trailer park scene in COPS, but not for me) so I tiptoed as fast as I could to the closet, grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and threw them on.

In retrospect, why I was tiptoeing was beyond me, because I knew that the policeman's banging on the front door was going to wake everyone up anyway.

I took the stairs two and a time from the 2nd story to the first, and flipped on the exterior light. A policeman stepped back from the door, and I opened it cautiously.

I've seen 24. Terrorists impersonate cops all the time.

I open the door, squinting half from the "adrenaline vs. sleep" battle royal going on in my chest and half from the light outside; and I looked to the policeman, who only said one thing.

"You left your garage door open."

...

I blinked.

...

I opened my mouth to say something, and he turned around, walked away, got into his squad car, and left.

I stood there with the door (and my mouth) open the whole time, watched him walk away, get into his car, and drive down the block.

I had, in fact, left my garage door open; and as I shut the door in a dazed stupor, my first instinct was to look for a camera to see if I was getting Punk'd. It felt like the middle of the night college phone call:

"Is your fridge running?"

sleepy..."Is my..my what?"

"Is your fridge running?"

"Umm..yeah, is it."

"YOU BETTER GO CATCH IT!"

click.

I mean, really? REALLY? Did you have to wake me up at 3 in the morning to simply tell me that my garage was open? No "sorry to wake you", no "I saw that you have a minivan, numerous brightly colored plastic Little Tyke toddler bikes, so you MUST have kids, so I apologize for the inconvenience", no note under my wiper blades in the morning that said "Hey, patrolling the area, saw that your garage was open, checked it out, no burglars (although you might want to organize your lawn equipment) but I took it upon myself to open your car door which was unlocked and hit the garage button to close it for you. Here is my badge number and name, just looking out for you".

NO, there was NONE of THAT. There was just WAKING ME UP at 3 in the morning to tell me that I was too stupid to close my garage door.

Thanks, Officer. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. To know that there are men and women in uniform watching out for open garage doors, and those same tried and true officers in blue willing to make a sacrifice to LET ME KNOW that it's open, I am incredible grateful.

Not only did you succeed in cancelling my appointment with Dreamy Fun Time Land, where I'm noticeably taller and able to fly, you also made me feel like a squinty idiot in the process.

Bravo.

I'm blowing a stop sign in protest today. You'll never take me alive.