So, one evening after work, I pull into the driveway and notice that the garage door was open, exposing the interior door into the home. While I felt the panic starting to rise (I knew I didn't leave the door open), I willed myself to calm down because it was quite possible that the garage door sensor went a bit wonky and never really closed the last time I left. And I always lock the interior garage door to the house, so no biggie.
But the interior door to the house was not locked. Let me repeat - the door into the home was unlocked!! I took a deep breath and did the only reasonble thing to do: call my father-in-law in a panic and screech into the phone that the garage door was open and the interior door was unlocked! UNLOCKED!! Someone could be in the house as we speak! He tried to reassure me (in a tone that sounded suspiciously similar to one used when speaking to a person that may have difficulty grasping simple concepts) that they had been at the house the day before and that my mother-in-law had probably just forgot to close the garage. Apparently he felt this was enough of an explanation to relieve my panicked mind.
Of course, it wasn't. So I made him stay on the phone with me while I literally checked every door, cabinet, and hiding space in the house (including the kitchen cabinets. You know, the ones above the counters that would take a midget contortionist acrobat to get into? Yeah, those too) because I was pretty sure there was a murderer lurking about waiting to ambush me.
Obviously all was clear. I calmed down and everything was fine. Until I made the mistake of telling Harry about my little adventure. The next day he sent me this:
Where is the Murderer?
Good thing he takes me seriously.
