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Isn't it so romantic when the man you love gently throws rocks at your window in the middle of the night to catch your attention? Probably so he can serenade you with a gushy love song or proclaim his affection for you for all the world to hear.
Or maybe it's because he's just returned home from working in the summer heat in a suit all day (see previous post) and he can't seem to get into the front door and you can't hear any of his phone calls b/c you decided to wear earplugs in an effort to sleep like a log. Yes, I sometimes wear earplugs in case my son decides to make noise and interrupt my beauty rest. Don't judge. I figure if he REALLY needs me, he'll just climb out of the crib and come and get me. He is 8 months old after all.
Anyway, when Gumshoe comes home late, we try not to open the garage door as it is located directly under LG's crib (very smart planning of the baby room-I know), and apparently Gumshoe does not own a key to the front glass door which was, unfortunately, locked.
Thus, gravel thrown at my window.
Surprisingly, I did not receive a serenade OR a declaration of love. Instead, I received a death glare...but I forgive you, Gumshoe. And you can serenade me tonight at dinner.
Oh...and no picture with the Sheriff. Too busy dealing with a hoax bomb at the event...it was a cluster. Good thing I got that life-sized poster for Gumshoe!
1 comment:
haha. That's happened to me a couple of times. Our balcony outside our bedroom is also near where the front door is, but it's upstairs. There have been a few times where HF has locked himself out and I've been napping upstairs and he'll start throwing rocks at the sliding door to wake me up. So not romantic. One of these days there'll be a mariachi band out there or something when I open the window instead of a "could you come unlock the door please?"
Hmmm. Earplugs. . . maybe I should try that. . .
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