This morning, I was working in the kitchen making lunch for Luke and my friend's little boy, Coy. Soon, I was startled by a hard pounding on our back door that leads to the deck. I froze. Of course, Luke and Coy go to the door and stare at the big, burly man who was staring back at them. I whispered, but was demanding at the same time, "Luke, Coy, GET OVER HERE NOW!"
Why does this stuff always happen to me? While living in Lincoln, I had a gal ring my doorbell at midnight and asked for Herb. Herb who? She was obviously not "all there." Bill was gone doing his annual fireworks job.
Then, a couple of years ago, our neighbors here in town had a transient living in their garage (I know, weird). One fall morning, I walked into the kitchen in my robe to get a cup of coffee and who was standing there at the door? You bet, that man. Of course! Why wouldn't he be standing there?
Anyways, today, a tall man wearing a black sleeveless shirt with his long white hair pulled back into a pony tale rapped on the door...and wouldn't leave. The kids just stared at him. I panicked. He finally turned away to leave, walked back to our shed and continued to stare at the shed. Then, Luke and Coy go to the back window and start pounding on the door, waving at the man. The man waves at the kids, gives a creepy smile and walks back to the house and continues to pound on the door.
I immediately freaked out, called Bill, who in turn called the police. Keep in mind that Bill has the sheriff's personal cell phone number because they work together a lot during the school year. The sheriff was here in a matter of minutes and of course, I look like a fool because the guy is gone. I do feel comforted, however because the sheriff said to me, "Don't you worry. Wherever he is, I'll find him." What a relief.
Bill called back to make sure everything was OK and told me, "You know, our neighbor said that his dad may be over to see what it would take to put a new foundation on the shed."
Great, Bill. Something you could've told me BEFORE I freaked out, called the cops and look like a total fool.
Turns out, it was our neighbor's dad. Regardless, he shouldn't have been knocking on the door, as far as I'm concerned.
Later, while we were eating lunch, I decided to use the situation as a lesson for Luke. I began to teach him how we don't answer the doors for strangers. Then, Luke said, "Are you talked about that guy that had really pointy teeth?" I guess I was.