Bear was working a twenty-four yesterday, a shift he doesn't like because he doesn't get to see the kidlets at all. Usually I get a phone call from him to talk about our days, but the shore was hopping and it was very late. The house was quiet and I was just contemplating the choice of either a shower or a bath when the front door slammed.
The slamming door didn't faze me too much, as it had a Bear-like sound to it, but then....there was no noise. No cheery hello.
I called out 'You'd better be my husband!' and footsteps started coming up the stairs.
Now it struck me. I was alone in the house with two sleeping children. The protector-mama in me started to rouse. What could I defend myself with? I was sitting in the bathroom, so I grabbed the first few things I saw. Armed, I waited.
It was Bear, who responded to my wide eyes and deer-in-the-headlights-stare with 'I wasn't sure you were up. I just stopped in for a minute to see....umm, do you need a brush with that?
I looked at my hands. Yup, I was all prepared to fight off the intruder with....a can of shaving cream and a digital camera.
Go me. Sometimes I am so fierce I can't stand it.