Leave the change, you filthy animal

We've been robbed. Not our house. But the bank that I could spit on from my front porch if I took a running start.

Who robs a bank anymore? I thought that went out of style when Bonnie and Clyde died in the 30s. I guess it just keeps coming back, like a bad rash.

Regardless, I slept with the lights on last night. I checked the locks, re-checked the locks, then built myself a pillow fortress on K's side of the bed to protect myself. From robbers, and also any monsters that may be hiding in the closet. I put all of my stuffed animals on the bed with me (like there weren't enough already) and left myself one crack in the pillow fort so I could still see the door.

I've been orchestrating my Panic Plan since I moved into this house. This is serious, people. I have strategically chosen my side of the bed because it is farthest from the door, and left two stairs on the way up to the second floor creaky so I'll know when someone comes up. I've also blow torched the door handle and rigged paint cans to drop down the stairway a-la Home Alone (that Kevin was a smart fucking kid.)

I've fantasized about the day I'll get to put my plan into action. Here's how it goes:
1.) Hear strange bank robber lady/rapist/giant monster creep up stairs when stair creaks.
2.) Do silent ninja somersault out of bed, snagging my phone from the bedside table.
3.) Sweep up all 3 cats and army crawl to my walk-in closet.
4.) Bar the door with laundry bins and call police.

Maybe I'm more easily scared then most. I started watching Monsters Inc. on ABC Family's 13 Nights of Halloween until the monster jumped out of the closet and scared the shit out of me. I recorded it for a later (daylight) showing and changed the channel. Yes, I know it's a cartoon.

When I woke up in the morning, I had 2 cats on the bed with me, and one in the hallway keeping watch. They can sense when I need protection. It's like they have ESPN or something.