Home Invasions Are Not Fun

I am completely prepared in the event of a home invasion. I’m also completely prepared for a Russian invasion, thanks to a propaganda video we all had to watch in fifth grade. But for the home invasion, I have Klingon-like weapons strategically placed all around my house, like Jodie Foster did in Safe Room. The bad guy will just think he’s tiptoeing silently into my kitchen when all of a sudden…whoosh…a knife flies through the air in stealth-mode and goes right through his ear into his skull. At least that’s how it happens when I think about it a lot.

With a shirt that sexy, who would ever think you've got a knife back there?

But I didn’t get to ear-stab anyone today because all of the people in my house were sort of invited. I didn’t invite them, but I invited the person who brought them. I think I actually said something like, “You should all come to my house for this presentation and I’ll make some snacks, too.” Go figure, they took that as an invitation.

It’s like Reverse-King-of-the-Vampires…instead of rendering my safeguards useless because I invited him in, I lost the right to show my stabby love when I told them they could come over. It’s a good thing that they’re really nice and well-mannered and don’t care that I’m writing this about them. I didn’t even have to tell anyone to use a coaster.

Having that many people over at one time (I think there were about 93 people there, but I could be exaggerating just because I was having trouble breathing) was a little unsettling because I’m out of practice on having guests over. I started counting feet at one point, and once it passed twenty I didn’t know what else to do but get out some more chairs and stand back in case one of the feet stepped on me.

All in all, once I got over the feeling that someone was going to punch me in the throat or accidentally spill a Coke on the carpet or something, it was a good experience. Two of my four family members hid in other parts of the house the entire time, and the remaining person just peeked down the stair case from time to time. I could be wrong, but I think I saw the glint of steel in her other hand once in a while. I love my family.

4 thoughts on “Home Invasions Are Not Fun

  1. Personally I am a “people person” and love entertaining. DH is a recluse who voluntarily spent 5 actual years in a Franciscan monastery. You can see the potential for conflict. I carefully get his agreement for every social event. It isn’t MY fault if he won’t look up from the computer long enough to actually figure out what I am saying rather than taking the coward’s way out and just agreeing with me! So the day of every event I spend part of it vehemently reminding him that I DID tell him about it and the rest explaining why Southerners would not have a clue on how to un-invite people to their houses. We just wouldn’t know how! I sympathize.

  2. I swear it’s not that I’m antisocial, I’m just anti-people-using-up-all-the-oxygen-in-the-room. You know those signs that list the official capacity of a large gymnasium? Someone bothered to do the math then hang that sign there for a reason.

  3. I know that feeling. Even one visitor throws me into mental meltdown. I forget to offer them things, like a drink or a chair, and somehow lose the powers of speech and thought. Luckily, I don’t get a lot of visitors, and those few stubborn repeat offenders (cousins, for the most part) have learnt that they have to fend for themselves in my house.


  4. Lorca, I think we were separated at birth. That many people in my house at one time would make me break out in hives, hyperventilate and maybe even go postal. You handled things well. Whew!!! Congratulations!!!


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