If my memory serves me correctly (which correctly meaning I'm just really guessing) it was pretty late in the evening, yet L and I had not quite gotten "Anne" to bed. I really am amazed that 12 year old girls can get a 1 year old or any year old to sleep in a timely matter, the majority of the time. I have a hard enough time at 31 getting my own kids to sleep on time. Anyways... Anne was still up and it was late. L and I were hanging out in the living room doing who knows what, when we heard a jiggling at the front door. The Jones' always came in through the garage.
We were 12-13 year old little girls and to say we freaked is an understatement yet we somehow managed to choreograph our position on what to do, without really saying anything. L already had the phone at the ready. I managed to try and keep a watch out of the front door from the vantage point through the kitchen into the living room. Somehow during our frantics, the baby wondered out in the open toward the door. You know, because obviously if the burglars get into the door and see the cutest little girl on earth standing there, then they surely would turn around and leave. Of course they would. Georgia (I'm thinking a pseudo nickname for the dog is not necessary?) the wonder dog also was standing guard to lick the perps to death.
This whole process happened in mere seconds from the time we heard the jiggling of the door, to L almost on the the last 1 on 9-1-1, when the Jone's came through the front door.
I'm sure if we would have been thinking rationally; a normal burglar would not sound as if they were trying to unlock the door but more likely would be trying to break the door down or better yet, bust through the front windows.
L and I sighed with relief and rehashed our