Scary Christmas

Okay, so the title is a little off, but it sounds good.

I had a really good Christmas with my family. We had dinner again at my step-mom's house. It was my dad, my brother Brian, his lady Anne and myself. Charlie spent the holiday with his father and grandmother. We had ham, candied yams/apples, green bean casserole, cranberry jello stuff and a roll. It was all very delicious, washed down with a nice white wine. I don't normally drink wine, so I was a little fuzzy by dinner time.

The Scary Christmas story actually is about the day after. Known in some countries as Boxing Day, but not observed here in the U.S.

I spent the day pretty much in my usual day off mode: in bed, napping and playing my video game. I would get up once in a while and go potty, or get a snack, then back to bed.

Around three in the afternoon I woke up to pounding at my door. It was not a nice little knock... it was POUNDING. The cat and I both bolted upright. My heart was pounding for a bit until I realized it was someone at the door.

I don't answer my door, because it usually is someone asking for money for one charity or another... or someone looking for someone else. When I have actual guests, they notify me before they show up, and they certainly don't POUND on the door.

So, I waited.

And, waited...

The POUNDING continued.

I finally got up out of the bed, wearing my typical around the house wear, shorts and a little tank top. I approached the door cautiously, looking out the patio door to see if there was anyone lurking there looking in... my blinds were not shut. I didn't see anyone. I tried to go to the door quietly. POUNDING, POUNDING.... I was just to the door and almost getting in front of it to look out the peep. B....A....N....G...... the door blew in a few inches, I literally saw daylight, and the door buckled inward.

My heart almost stopped. My first thought was that someone had shot my door, and thank GOD I was not in front of it... I looked for a hole in the door but there was none. He had kicked the door almost in. Thanks to the dead bolt it didn't open.

I have to preface this with I AM STUPID AND STUPIDER when I get upset.

I then went to the peep and looked through it to see who was on the other side of the door.

It was a big, black man, with a white beanie, carrying a backpack. I yelled through the door "I THINK YOU HAVE THE WRONG PLACE." He answered, "I am sorry, I am looking for my brother and he lives in apt # XX ..... " I yelled back... AS I OPENED THE DOOR, "WELL HE DOESN'T, YOU HAVE THE WRONG PLACE.... YOU GONNA PAY TO FIX MY DOOR? GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE." He apologized again and walked off.



I then went back to the bedroom and watched him walk away as I was closing the blinds, went back to the living room and closed the blinds there too. I didn't finish my afternoon nap.

and, NO I didn't call the cops, though in hindsight I should have.

In Jesus' Loving Arms