This little anecdote happened a number of years back when all five of my kids were under the age of ten.
I had just said goodbye to Ian who was going out for the evening and I went to check on the kids who had been put to bed about a half an hour previously. All of them were sleeping soundly so I decided I was going to run a well deserved,warm bath and soak for an hour. As I lay there luxuriating in the bubbles the sudden thought hit me that I had forgotten to lock the front door. That knowledge sabotaged any hope of truly enjoying my bath and my very active imagination set off a series of scenarios playing in my head all of which invariably lead to my untimely death at the hands of a serial killer. As I lay there contemplating getting out of the bath to go and lock the door I noticed a shadow pass under the bathroom door. It felt as if my heart stopped and for a moment I froze.
"Ian is that you?" I called out. "You're home late." I added, even though I was not expecting him home for at least another hour but I wasn't going to let my intruder know that. I wanted him to think that someone would be home at any moment.
Not only was this met with silence but the shadow that had passed by now came back and stood still in front of the bathroom.
"Adam, is that you?"
Silence.
"Matthew, is that you?
Silence.
"Daniel?"
Silence.
"Brittany?"
"Nathan, is that you out there? Do you need to go to the bathroom?"
Silence.
"Would you answer me please!"
Silence.
My imagination kicked into high gear at this point.
I could see that the door handle was slowly being turned back and forth and I was convinced I was about to meet my doom. I looked around the bathroom and realized there was absolutely nothing in there that I could defend myself with and then I remembered watching something about the best thing you can do in a situation like that is to surprise your attacker because it will throw him off his game plan. This thought gave me courage, I wasn't going to be an easy target so I stepped out of the bath dripping wet, covered in bubbles, completely naked, and made my way to the door. I undid the lock ever so quietly, yanked open the door, at the same time yelling in my very loudest voice "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!!!"
There stood three year old Nathan looking up at me with his big blue eyes, sheer terror on his face.
"Muuummy?"
Did the therapy sessions cost much?
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