Thursday, July 7, 2011

And in my spare time, I moonlight as a law-enforcement ninja.

So, we got broken in to this past weekend.

I noticed the stuff in my cars' center console moved around the first day. The punks had the indecency to crumple a brand new book of stamps I had in there for any postal emergencies that may arise. It pissed me off, but I figured it was my own children, on the hunt for hidden gems such as bubble gum and pocket change for the ice cream man.

I lacked the motivation to even yell at them, as this is a common occurrence and I choose my battles wisely.

And I was feeling lazy and tired.

Before we went to bed that night, Andy and I were having a discussion about psychic visions and how I have them. Of course, these visions are never helpful in PREVENTING something bad from happening, rather they just prolong my agony because then I KNOW something bad is going to happen, but I have no idea what it is. I need to go to Psychic School so I can learn how to do something useful with it, because it's just starting to really irritate me.


I woke up out of a dead sleep at 4:30am, to find Andy thrashing about...clearly in a bad dream. When you are married to a soldier who has deployed, this is sometimes common. The problem is, when he dreams, he doesn't remember it by morning. So, our new thing is for me to wake him up while he is dreaming (risking getting punched in the face) so that I can ask him what the dream is about.

So that's what I did. He was pretty upset, as the dream was that we were getting robbed, and he had cornered the offender in the garage. Keep in mind, I didn't mention to him about the stuff in my car being messed with.

We went back to sleep a little while later, and in the morning, he went out in the garage to have a smoke and found that we HAD been burglarized. Not only had they messed with both our cars and stolen stuff, but also broke in my garage. Because of the nature of one of the items they stole, we called the MPs to file a police report. They told us that this had been happening with alarming frequency lately, so lock everything up, but there is nothing they can do.

All the meanwhile, the MP kept his hands on his Tazer. (I capitalized Tazer, because it is a weapon that I am actually afraid of and I feel it is deserving of noting its importance.) He kept eyeing us nervously, (IN OUR OWN GARAGE) and I made a mental note to keep my hands where he could clearly see them, and made no sudden movements or walked towards him.

"Please don't taze me...Please don't taze me" I kept thinking. I thought about warning Andy, but then I figured if this dude was intent on taking one of us down for the sport of it, let it be him not me.

I have strong survivalist instincts at the expense of my friends and family members.

I am the kind of gal who likes to take matters in their own hands. Frustrated by the lack of investigative nature in these cops/soldiers, I presented my plan of action to Andy.

We were going to do a stake out and catch the little fuckers.

We rigged a silent alarm on the side of the house, only heard inside, as not to tip off the burglars. Why do we have such a device? Because we used to put it on the refrigerator to prevent the kids from pilfering food at night when we slept.

When we heard the alarm go off, Andy was to immediately speed dial the MPs, and I was going to take off and, in my ninja-like all black spandex (which I own for situations like this) I was going to track them, while texting back to Andy so he could tell the MPs where they were going. I was greatly upset we didn't have a more appropriate method of communication, as headsets would've been optimal.

I was mildly disappointed, as I asked the MP who came to our house if we were allowed to catch them and zip-tie them until the MPs got there, and he said laughed and said no. I wasn't kidding.

I figured I may have to do a few "tuck and rolls" along the ground as I tracked them, which brought in to my head an image of Kevin James from "King of Queens" as "Paul Blart: Mall Cop." I felt at a slight disadvantage, due to my lack of athletic prowess, at being able to get up fast enough if I got down, to which one of my best friends suggested I properly motivate myself with a hotdog tied to a stick dangling over my head. But I didn't have time to construct such an apparatus.

Andy thought my stake out was hilarious. When you are a trained Sniper, I would assume you would look down your nose at such an idea from your wife. However, I am trained in the black arts of stalking (mostly ex-boyfriends and boyfriends of friends). I told him to not underestimate the allure of a stake out, and that he should text his soldiers to ask if they could participate as backup, or contribute some night vision goggles. Unfortunately, they were all out of town, but they were also disappointed, as it was bound to be great fun.

So what was the end result of my adventure? Nothing. We forgot to turn the alarm ON, and we fell asleep, after a coma-inducing meal of homemade meatball sandwiches.

Guess we will have to wait until next time, when I bait my car and install a spy camera on the fence.


  1. Oh my goodness I almost peed my pants laughing! By the way, did you have to use the f word?

    Love, Mom

  2. (I don't want to sign up for Blogspot and can not get it to connect to my Google... this is Valerie)

    Greg and I often stake out when our neighboring sushi place causes a ruckus at late hours. Upon seeing a car puposely hit a person, we called the police... and then hid behind the window at the low level so we could not be noted as witness by the criminals who we decided were the Japanese Ninja Mafia.

    The other day I accidentally dressed as a Ninja in black leggings and a black tunic. Said tunic had a cloth belt.

    Once Michelle and I dressed all in black the next day to work. This was after watching a Jason Borne movie. Our mission was to select someone (a stranger) and follow them around w/o being seen. Neither of us completed our mission.

    Stake outs make me hungry for cheesesteaks.

    I wish you had been tazed.

  3. I'm not sadistic enough to wish you had been tazed. I did, however, find both this post and Valerie's response hilarious!

  4. As absolutely unsettling/annoying as being burglarized must be, I have to admit your retelling of the situation and ensuing plan is hilarious.

  5. Oh my, I hope if I'm ever burglarized, I can handle it the way you did! :P

    (Found you via BlogFrog, by the way. :) Not just a random creeper).

  6. Our cars get broken into all the time and we live in small town in Canada. Seriously. We stopped locking them so they wouldn't break things to get in and know nothing of value was in there.
    And I laughed at your nightmare story. Cause that's us. Except no matter when I wake him, he doesn't remember even having bad dreams. The talking, yelling orders and thrashing could very well all be in my head as far as he's concerned. Sigh.
    As for your stakeout, it's more humane than my DH's idea of a solution for the people who ride loud snowmobiles down our alley at all hours of the night. He wanted to put out wire at head level.
    And I'm giggling that you're doing all the ninja work while the trained soldier is inside on the phone :)