The One w/a Truck Fire and Window Banging.

As you just read the title to this post I know what you are thinking. You are probably wondering what the two have to do with one another. Well, let me tell you--they go hand in hand. You see, this post is about the time that I got awoken by someone pounding on my bedroom window and a truck fire. Settle in with a glass of wine, a Diet Coke, a margarita...whatever. Because this is going to be a somewhat entertaining post....

It all began a few weeks ago. Well, I suppose it's been over a month now, but that's beside the point. Leo's truck wouldn't start in the morning so he borrowed my Jeep. This automatically put me in a bad mood for a variety of reasons to include: being stranded in my home with a toddler and an infant, thinking of having to repair his truck, and being stranded in my home with a toddler and an infant. Not fun my friends. Not fun at all.

Then a few days later Leo decided to try and start the truck and miracle of miracles the thing actually started. This made me nervous for a variety of reasons. What if just stopped running as he was driving? What if this faulty truck broke down on I-10?! Wasn't he nervous to drive it? Would I have to be all Superwife'ish and go rescue him?

As fate would have it, no, I did not. I put my Superwife cape away--because I just knew that I would have to wear that thing one day...and I did. Oh, yes, I did.

It was {once again} early in the morning. If there is one thing that you should know about me it's that I am an extremely deep sleeper. I sleep through everything. Except for thunderstorms. But that's another post for another day.

I'm sleeping all curled up, warm and dreaming about something probably fantastic and wonderful. I start dreaming that someone is knocking on the door. That's when I woke up scared to death. Someone--or something {hey, I live by the marsh and there are alligators and stuff}--is pounding on my bedroom window. I had just watched a story on the news about this woman who is on the phone with 911 and a bad guy was all banging on her door and trying to break in to her home and she tells the operator that she will shoot this man if he broke in. Well, the guy broke in, got shot and died.

With this bit of news still fresh in my mind I tell myself , "Okay, Chelle. Breathe. Peek out the window and be prepared to get the key to the safe and get out one of Leo's guns. Most likely the shotgun. Because remember, Chelle, Leo said that more than likely whoever is breaking in will hear that shotgun get pumped {is the word really pumped? I have no clue.} and scare the living chit out of them."

I do what my brain tells me. I take a deep breath and peek out the window. Very detective like/police womanish. I was proud at my mad peeking skills. Anyway, back to the story.

I do a scan of the yard. Nothing. Then? I see Leo walking around the backyard. I then got very angry. Why would he scare me?! What is he doing at home--he should be at work. And why would he be freaking trying to wake me up?

When I opened the door to my intruder I asked him what the heck is going on?! He's late for work, locked out and scaring me to death. There have better be a good excuse for this one. That's when he told me...

"My truck caught on fire. I've been calling you and pounding on the door and windows, ringing the bell....because I'm locked out."

Just how he said so nonchalantly that, you know, his truck CAUGHT. ON. FIRE!!

He assured me that it was a small fire, that he had started his truck and the cabin filled up with smoke, he opened the hood and, well, there was a small fire just burning away. Something about an air conditioner, compressor and belts? Still unsure on how this all happened, but whatevs.

I guess I would like to thank the fire--because without it? I wouldn't be cruisin' around in my new ride....which fyi?

Is much, much prettier than that old truck anyway...