Monday morning, I crawled out of bed at 10 AM, zombie walked to the bathroom to take care of the normal morning "Stuff". I then stumbled into our closet to put on a bra and tank top....and I hear a strange noise. Like a cough but not Mazzy's normal Pomeranian cough, like there's a BURGLER in my HOUSE who just coughed! I quietly close my closet door and eyeball Jory's "That's not a knife, THIS IS a knife" knife. In the same split second, my brain tells me I should drop the tank top and put on a real T-shirt. Because we must be modest when catching a burgler in the act. I KNOW, WTF?! But it was literally all in the same second and I didn't even laugh about it until later, but OK so...I put on the more modest T-shirt and figure I can peek my head out of the bedroom, and if I see Jory's backpack is on the dining room table, I won't have to call 911 from my closet.
The thing is, when Jory calls out sick or comes home early sick, he wakes me or calls me to tell me he's on his way home. He does this, so I don't freak out, think he's a burgler and stab him with his "THIS is a knife" knife. I'm thinking about this very thing as I talk myself into slowly opening the closet door. I glanced again at his knife as I opened the closet door and just as I turn to peek out the bedroom door, THERE'S A MAN STANDING IN MY DOORWAY! I jumped, hit the ceiling, fell down, had a heart attack and died before I realized it was Jory!
He giggled and said, "This is why I normally wake you, if I have to call out sick."
I proceeded to tell him, while I thought there was a burgler in the house, modesty was my priority. LOL