The weekends just don't last long enough.

Well, the weekend is finally here. We've got a birthday party, a Thanksgiving dinner, and the Easy Rider Tour to go to. I wanted to go to the Texas Renaissance Festival on Sunday since it's the last day this year, but I'm thinking I'm going to have to work instead. I'm adding lots of new items to Reagan's Closet, so check it out if you have time.

The funniest thing happened the other night and I just have to tell because I feel like such a silly-goose. I burst upright at 3 AM to what I thought was the sound of breaking glass. Scared out of my wits, heart in the pit of my stomach, I managed to whisper to boyfriend, "Did you hear that? What the Hell was that?"

Still not moving, his face in the pillow, barely audible, he muttered, "I heard something. What was it?"

"I don't know, babe. Wake up!", I said as I grabbed my chest where my heart is about to pound out of it.

So he finally sits up and looks over at the closed bedroom door, I'm assuming to see if anyone turns the knob. Then he manages, "Do you want to get up and search the house?"

No, let's sit here and wait for them to come up and kill us in our bed, "Uh, YES!"

So, he goes over where he has the shotgun hidden, hands me his cell phone (as if I'm going to have time to dial 911 before whoever may be in the house has time to knock both of us over our heads or worse) and we start searching the house like a SWAT team. Have you ever watched those shoot-em-up movies where the police are moving through a house and they open the door and then jump in front of it while aiming their guns at nothing? That's sort of what we were doing, only my only weapon was boyfriend's cell phone and I was following a considerable distance behind him in hopes that I could run away, dial, and hide before "the intruder" could get through boyfriend after me. We search every room, behind sofas & counters, under beds, under cars in the garage, everywhere ... Nothing! We even looked at all the windows in the house to make sure none were broken. Nothing!

We get back upstairs, lay down, and try to catch our breath as I recount to him what I thought I heard. Then I realize, I heard the "breaking glass" coming from my right, which is our bathroom. I get up, open the bathroom door, turn on the light, and look up at the light well windows at the top of the far wall ... NOTHING! However, on the ceramic tile floor is the silver metal cross that was hanging on the wall. I sort of kicked at it (just as a test, I'm a good Catholic ... I wasn't trying to be sacrilegious), and sure enough, it vaguely sounded like glass being shattered.

Boy, do I feel like an idiot.