Home Alone…

I never felt comfortable staying by myself in my childhood home.

One snowy winter night my parents went to the movies.

I was a pre-teen and thought nothing of it until the doorbell rang.

I went to the front door and peeked out.

The porch lights were blazing.

No one was visible, but there were fresh footprints in the snow leading up to the door.

That was strange.

I dismissed it, but a mild case of fear crept into my psyche.

I returned to my homework and Perry Mason.

The doorbell rang again and the scenario went into repeat mode.

There were no cell phones so I could not reach my parental units.

The Darien movie theater phone only had a taped recording of show times.

I phoned my uncle who called the local police.

Our quiet dead end street was soon flooded with activity.

A convicted mentally ill inmate had escaped from a state facility for the criminally insane.

Unfortunately, he found his way to my house.

Holy Bat Shit Crazy, Batman.

He was captured in our backyard.

My parents returned as the police were driving off with Mr. Cra Cra.

This brings me to the present.

3am this morning noises woke me up.

I find myself Home Alone as my protector is out of town on business.

Heart rate is rapid and I am once again that young girl by herself.

I am up for the rest of the night.

I’m breathless from dragging the living room sofa across the room and placing it against the front door.

The good news is that I was able to clean behind the furniture…dust balls being the bane of every clean freak’s existence.

Back in bed, Morning Joe is providing companionship as well as a distraction.

Home Alone is on rewind, but I have surpressed the scream and desire to dial 911.

Am I too old for a babysitter?!

 

One Comment

  1. Paula Lopez says:

    The answer is -no you’re not!

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