Friday night, I was up late, photographing a Youth Event with our church. The kids took over a local ice rink, and played broomball into the wee hours,
then had an over-night lock-in, with a rousing game of Grounders once the sun came up.
But in between the broom ball, and the Grounders, I was up for far too long loading broomball photos onto Facebook.
It was probably 1:30 or 1:45 before I headed off to bed. WAY too late.
We were late getting going in the morning. I vaguely remember Nate coming in and saying that the toaster didn't work (it was plugged into a dead outlet), and me telling him to move it to the front hallway to make his Eggo waffles.
I vaguely remember hearing Kelly chattering away to her hamsters.
And then, as I was staggering around, I thought I heard the garage door.
So I quickly got dressed, and went downstairs to see what the guys might be wanting...
...and found nobody.
It was tomb-like.
And the garage was closed.
Kind of like a twilight zone episode.
But then I started noticing things through the day.
There was a new piece of rosin paper in one part of the family room. And I think the laser level had moved.
Nothing really big. Just those disconcerting small things.
But there was Nobody Around.
Nate didn't see anything, and he'd been downstairs making himself breakfast.
The next day, the truth came out.
Turns out, Our Beloved Contractor HAD been in the house. He said "I came in through the garage, and shouted up "Hello! I'm here!", but didn't hear anything in reply. So I tried crashing around while I was doing the things that I needed to do. I thought I was making a lot of noise, but you didn't seem to notice. And then it started getting awkward, so I just quietly left."
I had to laugh. And I was tempted to say "Well, I'm glad I wasn't beating my kids, or anything. Now *that* would've been awkward..."