1984 (part a)

So, I have been suffering from a totally irrational fear lately.

First, I would like to totally confess that this is probably one my most ridiculous thoughts, next that one summer vacation when I was really bored and thought I could teach my dog to read.

Second, I realize that this most likely will not happen, but considering I come from superstitious stock , I will type the next few sentences with my feet as I knock on wood with both hands.

So, my irrational fear is this:

I am super duper afraid that someone is going to steal Alex. Not kidnap, not abduct, but steal. Yes, I realize that these area all kinda the same things, but they aren't. Let me explain.

My first fearful-baby-stolen-thought is: I am terrified that Alex is going to be taken from his crib in the middle of the night while we are sleeping. So much so, that I won't allow Luke to sleep with the french doors that keep the sun from rising riiiight across his eyes every morning crisply at 6am.

Why, you ask?

Here's why. Ok, so let's say someone runs up the half-flight of stairs to our front door, breaks in the door, then runs up two more flights of stairs to grab him from his crib? Whasgunnahappen?

Let me present you with my line of defenses:

1) Yes, I do have a video monitor that I keep on very loudly every night, but no way I am going to hear any baby crying if he is away from the monitor....clearly because his Stealer will have shuffled him down to stairs by now. Our door would be closed so I couldn't hear anything. What am I going to say to Alex? "Um, sorry you lived in a shed your whole life and had to eat cold beans from a can...your dad didn't want to get up early."???

2) Sure, I do have two large dogs, but only one is the constant jerk that barks all the time, but maybe that will be the one time he'll be sleeping too. That would be totally his style to only be a jerk not not helping us at all. Hence, being a jerk. And if I have faith in him? Then what? Am I really going to rest my safety on something that eats his own poop? Ah, no.

3) Jane, don't you have an alarm system? Yeah, but wires can be cut, people, wires can be cut. Haven't you seen Scream? Patriot Games? Cape Fear? No? Get HBO.

4) The scariest piece of this puzzle, is that if this person actually gets into my house, they have gotten through the gates, of which, the codes are changed every other day. Yeah, I have those neighbors.

Which leads me to:

5) If some crazy has gotten into the house, we are totally out matched and no alarm system is going to be of use. If some nut-job actually infiltrated the house then we have been out-played Survivor Style. Like, Jeff Probst will be interviewed by Geraldo the next morning while I am in the back ground kicking Charlie......

I can see it now.....

First, they must have gotten by my neighbor, Bob, see, Bob is kinda nosy. He is more infatuated with looking through our fence at our newly installed fake grass, than the landscapers who are confused why our yard never grows.

And, Mike too, our other neighbor...the one who reminds me everyday that Luke's side of the garage door is open during the day.....and is nice enough to call one night to let us know our air conditioner was squealing. At 12:30.

Then, Marlene's son who owns a brewery. Eh, I give both of them a pass.

You can see why I worry. I mean I do live in Texas so we have more guns in my house than mouths to feed, but something tells me that trying to load anything without contacts in will end up badly.

But Jane, don't you leave the house? Yes, I do. I go to the local YMCA to work out. Don't get me started. That is a whole other post. Really.

In fact, tune in tomorrow.

Unless I am out hanging up posters.