Most weekdays, Derek gets up super early and goes to the gym to work out before heading off to work. Then, in the evenings, after we've put the kids to bed, I go for my walk. Thus we both get some kind of physical exercise in on most days.
Last week, however, Derek missed a couple mornings at the gym. This might be due to the fact that he was getting up at night with Atticus more than usual. I guess being screamed at throughout the night kind of kills your motivation.
To make up for those missed mornings, as soon as I walked in the door from my evening walk, he left for the gym.
So there I was one evening last week, post-walk, sitting in the rocking chair, laptop in my lap, tv on to drown out all the scary things I hear when Derek's gone and it's dark outside.
Out of nowhere, I heard a whistle.
I don't mean a lifeguard's whistle or a train whistle; this was definitely human, more the kind of little three-note whistle you might give to catch someone's attention.
And I had heard it
in my house
somewhere close to me
from a human being.
I flipped out.
BUT, to my credit, if you were watching me, you would never have known that I was flipping out. Checking my vital signs, sure, but just looking, nope. I stayed completely still (even though my heart was racing), continued to click my finger on the mouse at random intervals (even though I had no idea what was on the computer screen; I was too busy straining to see movement in my peripheral vision), glanced up at the television every once in awhile (to increase the range of said peripheral vision).
This is my standard protocol when I think a home invasion has occurred: act natural, continue doing whatever you're doing even while your ears are straining for the slightest abnormal noise (don't worry, they'll find plenty of fodder to give you heart attack after heart attack), then casually make your way to whatever stations you have in your home that house weapons against just such a situation- preferably something heavy or poisonous or pointy or that involves gunpowder.
I was following the protocol beautifully, especially for someone convinced that there was a man in the front room watching her. I had just moved to get up and retrieve my something poisonous (hairspray) along with my something heavy (favorite cast iron skillet), 'cause I'm a two-handed warrior. You have been warned.
Then Atticus started crying.
If you know us and/or have read this blog for any length of time, you know that Atticus crying/screaming/thrashing throughout the night is pretty normal around here.
I thought about going ahead and retrieving my weapons, but I was afraid this would tip the intruder off; wouldn't a normal mother go straight upstairs to comfort her crying child?
Instead I walked as calmly as I could toward the stairs, expecting a blow to the head at any second.
I made it to the stairs. (I know, you're shocked, right?)
I also made it up the stairs without harm. (Surprise after surprise today.)
I settled Atticus back down, then stood at the top of the stairs, listening intently.
And I heard it again.
THIS GUY WAS TOTALLY MESSING WITH ME. Obviously, what was happening here was that some guy had broken into our house, saw me on the laptop, whistled in a menacingly friendly manner, you know, just to let me that he was there, waited to see what I would do, watched me go up the stairs but didn't do anything because that would be the obvious kill, and this guy was evidently a subtle homicidal maniac, and when it became apparent that I was waiting him out, he whistled again to let me know that the game was still on.
(By the way, I didn't call the cops on the off chance that I was wrong about the whole there's-a-deranged-killer-in-my-house thing; if I called the cops every time I thought someone was out to get me, our kids would have been taken away a long time ago.)
Eventually I walked down the stairs (I would have crept but there is no creeping down our stairs- our house is 112 years old, no one seems to have done any home repair on them in all that time, and I kind of think they just like to make you feel like an elephant as you walk up and down them). I had a sudden burst of bravery (or sanity, I often confuse those two), turned on the light to the front room, and encountered...
Apparently he had slunk into a different room of the house.
At that point, Derek walked in the front door, I said something like, "OH MAH GAH!" and babbled out the entire story to him.
He then told me that the whistle was the iPad that he had brought home from work.
"Your iPad was whistling at me?"
"No, it means I had an incoming message."
So my question now is this: Who does that? Who makes technology that makes pseudo-friendly human sounds specifically designed to freak people out? Or perhaps if not specifically designed for that purpose, then with that being the obvious byproduct?
One of these days someone's going to have a real cardiac episode or stroke and there's going to be a lawsuit.
Because I can't be the only one freaked out by that stuff.