Yesterday, while I was on the phone with Kiersten for the "I'm home and safe and all is well" call, I heard a bang, a shriek and feet running. About to jump through the phone, I'm asking her what's wrong, what happened? This is the conversation that followed (please read her parts in your best drama queen impersonation) :
Me: Kiersten, what happened?
Kiersten: Mommy (pant pant pant) the back door flew open and there might be SOMEONE IN THE HOUSE!!!!
Me: Kiersten, where are you?
Kiersten: I'm in your bathroom with the door closed. I need the key to the gun cabinet.
Me: You need WHAT? NO MA'AM, YOU ARE NOT GETTING THE KEY TO THE GUN CABINET!!!
Kiersten: Mommy, I'm armed with a ruler, do you REALLY think that will do any good against someone with a gun????
Me: You are not getting the key to the cabinet! Okay. I'm going to call the next door neighbor and have him come over and check the house. STAY WHERE YOU ARE and I'll call you back.
After a minute or so, couldn't get in touch with the neighbor. At this point, remembered that the back door will fly open if it's not latched properly(it's done it to me a few times late at night and scared the bejesus out of me) and Mike had been out that morning. I call back.
Me: Hey sweetie, is everything okay?
Kiersten: I guess so.
Me: I want you to walk into the front of the house and out the front door and go next door.
Kiersten: I'm already in the front of the house armed with the ruler, I'm checking the rooms. The bathroom is dark and suspicious.
Me: Kiersten, your bathroom has no outside source of light-of course it's going to be dark! Are you not scared anymore?
Kiersten: No, I'm good.
Me: I'll stay on the phone while you check the rooms.
Kiersten: The office is scary, I'm not going in there.
Me: Didn't you have to go in there to get the phone when you got home?
Kiersten: Oh RIGHT! Okay mom, I've finished checking the rooms and there's no one in the house.
Me: I told you, it was just the back door.
Kiersten: Maybe it was a GHOST!!!!
Me: I'm not talking about ghosts with you, don't mention that to your daddy, I'll be home in a few minutes.
The joy of having a child with an overactive imagination. By the way, if any of you tell her I wrote about the whole thing, I'll have to deny it.