Know what's not so cool? Him showing up at 10:40, when the house is dark, the doors are locked, and everyone is settled in... then clunking around, cursing in the dark for 15 minutes before coming upstairs.
I knew I had a 50/50 chance of it either being him, or a sex starved, drug crazed lunatic on a rampage.
Wait, remove that "or".
I was thrilled to see him, but I get enough excitement in my daily adventures. I certainly don't need any more.
He is just lucky that I recognized his particular brand of clunking and cursing.
Otherwise, I would have met him at the top of the stairs swinging one of those industrial-strength, heavy duty metal Mag lites. Straight for his balls. Or liver. Or head. Whatever was easiest to reach.
I may be small, but like the ferocious chihuahua, I am mighty...
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