Tonight I almost had a heart attack. Emma and I were eating dinner at her little table in the living room. It was dark outside. The doorbell rang. Our porch light is burnt out so if I opened the door I would have only seen darkness. Especially because Steve is still out of town, I was especially freaked that some unknown person was ringing our doorbell after dark. I grabbed Emma and carried her into the hall. Whoever was standing on our porch continued to ring our bell, like, five more times. The dogs were going crazy and suddenly I was sure I heard our garage door opening. I didn't know if I should hide in the closet or call 911. My cell phone was back out in the living room so I chose the closet. When I didn't hear the doorbell anymore, I peeked out my bedroom window. And, boy, did I feel stupid.
Our neighbor told me earlier this week that she was going to make some homemade cinnamon rolls and bring us some. I saw her at the house across the street, handing a plate to the woman who lives there. I hope she comes by again tomorrow (during daylight!) because I would hate to miss out on those cinnamon rolls!
Oh, yeah, and apparently my mind was working overtime because, when I checked, our garage door was still very much closed.