One of the things that I really love about our little town is that everything is so close to us. We are within a one mile radius of the post office, the library, the grocery store, the pharmacy, two dollar stores (yee-haw), my hair dresser and the elementary, middle and high school. I love the proximity.
When McDaddy and I decided to purchase a home, we looked for two years. Each Sunday morning before church, we would scan the Real Estate Guide and plot our course for our house hunting extravaganza. We preferred to moved closer to our church because we spend a lot of time there and because most of our friends from church live out this way.
We found this house months before we ever considered buying it because the owners were asking way more than what we wanted to pay. Even so, I fell in love with this house the minute we stepped through the front door. Ultimately, we were able to purchase this house and have lived here for almost seven years. We have great neighbors and we live on a dead-end street. With the exception of the ginormous hill that we live on, we absolutely love our neighborhood.
My sweet Alex and I were having breakfast at our neighborhood Tudors one morning after dropping Stevie off at school. Tudors is another one of those close establishments I mentioned earlier. They serve a mean platter of biscuits and gravy and no doubt my arteries are worse off because I have to pass Tudors to get to my house. We ran into one of our neighbors there and he mentioned to me that another neighbor of ours had been robbed a few days earlier.
I sucked in a breath and mentally counted the number of houses between ours and his – six to be exact.
Whoooaaaa… that means that the above mentioned robber was within sight of our house. Yikes.
First off, the thought of someone being in our home without our permission makes me physically ill.
Next, there are plenty of times that McDaddy is off fulfilling business commitments for Honeywell or the WV Air National Guard (ahem!) which leaves me here on the home front to care for and protect our boys.
Often, when McDaddy is out of town, I sit up in my bed thinking about what I would do if a robber would make his way into our home. I have a plan formulated in my head and have no doubt that I could pull it off if it meant protecting this mama bear’s little cubs.
There are no guns in our home, with the exception of my wooden majorette rifle (which happens to be covered in shiny blue and silver metallic tape.) But even though it may not contain bullets, don’t think for one second that I wouldn’t use that thing to wallop the would-be burglar on the head with it if I needed to.
If robber guy comes through our basement, I could see him coming up the basement stairs WAY before he would see me and I wouldn’t hesitate to knock him out if needed.
And, if I couldn’t get to the gun, there is a Louisville Slugger in our bedroom. I’d throw that thing over my back and make my way toward the noise. Let me assure you, there is nothing worse than a determined mama wielding a wooden baseball bat. Throw in the fact that I’d be screaming like a lunatic and ole’ boy would probably decide it wasn’t worth the hassle or the hearing loss. It’s doubtful I’d even have to swing the thing.
The irony of all this is that on that very day that I found out about the burglary, The Charleston Gazette featured an article on the front page. It reported that the House of Delegates just passed a bill that safeguards those protecting their home with deadly force. It is waiting to be signed by the Governor.
Deadly Force…. Yeah, I’d be using deadly force alright. As much as I could muster. And, I’m not sure I’d have to have a bill protecting me if someone came in this joint. I’d wallop now and ask for forgiveness later.
At any rate, you better believe hawk-eye (me) will be on the lookout for the white car that parked within feet of Mr. B’s house and went to the front door.
That’s right. I said white car.
A couple of neighbors were walking their dogs on that fateful day and they watched this guy walk right up to the front door. It was memorable to them because most people use Mr. B’s side door. Just after the neighbors passed the house, the robber broke into the house and stole some antique money.
It’s doubtful that Mr. White Car will read this blog. But, it is possible, that someone that knows Mr. White Car will read this and remember his recent acquisition of “old money” and put two and two together. In the meantime, this gal will kick her nose into overdrive. These eyes are newly lasered and I can see for miles. This neighbor will be on watch.
Hopefully, I will never have to use the gun or the bat.
But if push comes to shove, I’m prepared to shove.
And knock the guy plum out.