So it's taken me a few days to get up the nerve to share this story. I was waiting for the initial paranoia to wear off, but it seems to just be increasing as time passes, so better to get this out there now.
Last Sunday night, around 10:30, we were in bed when we noticed a lot of lights going up and down the road in front of our house. We have lots of windows in the bedroom, so we get some headlights or moonlight shining in at night, but this was a lot more than normal. Mr. B and I ran to take a peak out the front window in time to see two cops slowly driving up and down the road with the dashboard spotlights running through everyone's front yards.
What the hell.
In a typical Mrs. B overreaction, I immediately assume there is a serial killer running loose through the neighborhood or a death row convict who has recently escaped from prison. Please note, there are no serial killers (or registered sex offenders! I checked the website!) who live in our neighborhood and there's certainly no prison nearby. But in my head these things are rational.
We watched from the window for any more activity but the hub-bub seemed to have moved down the road so we went back to bed. Obviously, that was too soon because the lights started up again which meant it was time to take action. We snuck out the front door to the yard - but of course without turning any lights on because that would attract the serial killer's attention! - and waited for the cops to come back up the street.
And here's the word for word transcript of our conversation with the police:
Police: Evening Maam.
Me: Evening yall. Everything okay?
Police: (in very serious tone.) Have you seen anyone with a ladder this evening?
Me: (hesitation.) What kind of ladder?
Mr. B: Oh geeze Kate. What kind of ladder? We haven't seen anyone tonight let alone anyone with a ladder.
Police: Okay, please keep your eye out and call us if you see anything suspicious.
And they drove off.
And before I get to the "ladder" business, if you aren't laughing HYSTERICALLY at this point, you have completely missed one of the most classic Mrs. B lines of all time. "What kind of ladder?" Even I amaze myself with the stupid things I say. I suppose I was trying to ask if he meant a step ladder, or a painters ladder, or who knows what kind of ladder, but let's be honest. Mr. B was right. I hadn't seen anyone with a ladder, let alone a specific make or type of ladder. That's funny stuff.
So we went back into the house, got into bed and I asked Mr. B: Why would anyone try to break into a house to steal stuff from the second floor. Perhaps the second dumbest comment of the evening looking back on it. He suggested this mysterious ladder man (or maybe a woman?) was really a peeping tom. I'm so naive sometimes. And that SERIOUSLY freaked me out.
The next day, Mr. B found the following sign at the post office:
WHAT?? This person ran away with the ladder? And it's happened before?
Help friends. I'm paranoid there's a nutso out there. This is supposed to be Sleepyville, USA.
And I know it is because I made Mr. B look up the crime statistics. There hasn't been a murder for, um, forever, and the worst crime might be the occasional DUI or petty theft. Certainly no climbing up to second story windows to creep on people.
But perhaps what's more hilarious/disturbing is the final sentence. "I believe we have a creeper in the neighborhood". HAHAHAHA.