Sunday, June 10, 2007
Surveying His Work
Kim and I were talking to my upstairs neighbor/landlord this morning, telling her what the smashing glass sound was at 4:30 a.m. last night. Seems that one of the cats, Mingus (aka "Fatboy") decided to get onto the kitchen counter, and in jumping down, took a glass that was sitting on the counter with him.
When I had heard the noise, I'd leapt out of bed-- I thought that someone was breaking in through the back door. Kim later said she couldn't believe how fast I was awake and out of our bedroom. All I could think of was my kids-- I wanted to get to the door before whoever it was actually got in the door, so I could beat their asses to a pulp on the back porch and back yard while Kim called the cops. Whatever was going to go on, I wanted it to happen outside of my home, away from my wife and kids.
When I got to the kitchen door, though, I saw a black and white flash out of the corner of my eye, barrelling out of the room. As I got to the door, I noticed that the entire kitchen floor was covered in broken glass, but that the back door was intact. My bare feet had somehow avoided the shattered pint glass, which I'd, um, "liberated' from the Gingerman Tavern years ago.
As I swept up the glass and told Kim that everything was all right (amazed that my kids hadn't been woken by the noise, which was loud enough to wake up my upstairs neighbors), my heart was still racing a million miles an hour; I suddenly realized what I'd done, and thought of what I would have done if I'd actually have been met by the intruders I'd expected. I hadn't given it any thought-- I just reacted.
What I would have done is kicked their punk asses into tomorrow. My adrenline was cranked up pretty good at that moment. Heh.
Oh well-- it'll give me the excuse to get out and obtain another piece of glassware...