Sorry about the very long delay in my posts. Without going too far into the TMI realm, let me just say that over the past two weeks I was unknowingly experiencing an entire year's worth of PMS. Don't you wish you had been with me?
Marc and I spent a lot of time together when we were growing up. I look back on it fondly, he probably looks back on it as having to babysit all the time. Marc educated me on the finer points of movie and television viewing at a very early age. Without him who knows how much I would have watched Land of the Lost, Charlie's Angels, The 6 Million Dollar Man or Star Trek. As soon as videos came into the picture he kept me well trained on what made a movie worthwhile (although I believe that definition may have changed over the years). Many of the movies we watched were a little scarier than I would have chosen for myself...but I didn't want to seem like a baby. We would watch all the James Bond movies, then all the Alfred Hitchcock movies and so forth. Most of our viewing entertainment was either a thriller, sci-fi or the (much dreaded) horror flick.
One night, as we watched some pre-Stephen King scariness I thought I heard someone outside. I mentioned it to Marc who immediately thought my movie fear level was affecting my senses. Moments later we heard some more noises....and heard the front door knob rattling. Hah! It wasn't just my over active imagination!! I asked Marc if we should call the police. Channeling some sort of Captain Kirk-esque macho-ness, he said no, went into the kitchen and came out with a big knife. He crept into the front hallway with me tiptoeing closely behind. The doorknob was slowly turning back and forth. Keeping a close eye on the door knob, Marc stealthily reached up and slid the door chain onto it's latch. (That 1/4" of chain link will keep them out!) I started wondering what Marc was going to do with this knife....every thing I imagined seemed awful or ineffective so I ran and called a neighbor who lived up the street.
I now have mixed memories on whether Marc tried to open the door and just reach the knife through...but I'm not sure.
We both jumped about three feet when there was a loud knocking on the door. "Kids, it's me, Larry! It's okay you can open the door!"
Relieved, we un-slid that all important chain lock and opened the door. The entire front yard was covered in toilet paper. Some of my sisters many suitors, knowing how a girl would swoon over the sight of toilet paper, had not only bedecked our entire front yard (we had an ENORMOUS maple tree), but had also covered the front door and the windows with shaving cream...thus the door knob jiggling - they wanted to be thorough, after all. I had so much adrenaline coursing through my veins I couldn't sleep for hours. I think Marc may have been slightly disappointed that he wasn't able to get rid of the intruders, or better yet avenge the toilet papering and fly off into space. The next weekend, we chose a comedy - not as exciting, but no need for knives and sleepless nights.