However, I just found the situation so humorous (and possibly slightly unnerving) that I couldn't help but share.
Over the years that I've been blogging I believe that my faithful readers have come to expect strange stories and anticdotes. I bet you often wonder where I come up with this stuff.
I assure you, what I'm about to share with you is all true.
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Last night we got to live a scene from the classic Tom Hanks Movie, The Burbs.
Minus the bathrobe.
What I was wearing during said experience is, frankly, none of your business.
At the horrible hour of 4:30 a.m. I was up with Jabes (Baby J's nickname that seems to be sticking) for his nightly feeding. Yes, he's 7.5 months old. Yes, most normal babies sleep through the night at this point. Yes, I'm tired of getting up. No, I don't want your advice.
I digress.
While I was making Jabes's bottle I noticed that a neighbor's backyard floodlights were on. This happens occasionally so I didn't think much about it. It was 4:30 a.m. I wasn't thinking much of anything other than trying to remember how to mix formula.
When I finished with Jabes about 15 minutes later I entered my bedroom to find The Hubs peeking through our blinds into the neighbor's well lit backyard.
"What the devil is Neighbor doing?" He mumbled to me as I joined him at the window.
We stood in silence for a moment watching.
A few things were obvious.
(1) Neighbor had in his hand a shovel, a flashlight, a garbage bag.
(2) Neighbor was poking around in the dirt of his vegetable garden.
(3) Neighbor's dog was running around in crazy circles at his feet.
(4) Neighbor was scantily clad.
(5) Neighbor probably wouldn't like knowing he was being watched.
(Let this be a lesson fellow citizens! You never know who's watching.....)
"What IS he doing?" I repeated, trying to make sense of the scene before me.
"I don't know, but a few minutes ago he was dressed even MORE scantily (Hubs shared details that I will refrain from 'exposing'... ha ha ha...). He had a gun in his hand and he was looking into the tree. Then, it seemed like whatever was happening with the tree ended, he went back inside, put on some more clothing, left the gun behind and returned with a couple garbage bags. Then, he shoveled something into one of the garbage bags and put it in the trash. And whatever it was looked kind of heavy and awkward."
Pause for thoughtful reflection on what we know about Neighbor.
Not much.
He goes to church on Sundays.
But apparently you can go to church on Sundays and still sneak around your backyard at night. Go figure.
"I'm thinking maybe he killed some kind of nuisance animal", Hubs went on, "like a raccoon or something."
"I didn't hear a gun shot," I replied logically. Hello, 4:30 a.m. Logic doesn't usually dwell within my being at this time. And that, my friends, was a perfectly logical statement.
"Well, I had to go to the bathroom and I didn't hear him shoot the gun," Hubs said, "but that doesn't mean he didn't". (I graciously refrained from making a crack about Hubs's bathroom experience being loud enough to drown out the sound of a gun shot.)
More silence as we watched Neighbor rooting around in some bushes.
And what did we end up with for our troubles?
Nothing. We still have no stinking idea what was going on.
But I'll tell you what I do know: Neighbor means business and we'll be treating Neighbor right!
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