Me: Get up! Now! [reaches up and smacks at the lump in the loft bed].
Me: Up! Up, up, up! Get up!
Alex: huh? why?
Me: Just GET UP!
Finally, Alex retreats from his warm and cozy bed and the three of us hide in the inner bathroom while Mr. Hull unlocks his gun. Sirens blare outside, police cars fly up and down the road. I make a pallet of blankets for Alex and Katie to spend the night and join my husband in the living room. Nothing happens. We wait up for awhile and still nothing. We weren't attacked. We weren't robbed. There wasn't a war. There wasn't even a civil uprising. Overreact much? Yeah, probably, but there have been a couple of stand-offs in our neighborhood in the six years we've lived here. I guess, in our sleepy-headed minds, nothing is impossible.
So, how about you? Do you have a harrowing tale of surviving some sort of supposed danger? Have you overreacted to save your family in the face of an imagined threat? Please share. I'd love to know that I'm not the only fruit loop out there.