The Helicopter Target Practice
Call me crazy, but even without any children of my own, I know the sound of silence when I hear it. And it can only mean one thing: trouble.
Yesterday, while I was busy doing whatever it was I was doing, I noticed something odd. Adam was nowhere to be seen. Even more bizarre, I could hear every little nothing. The AC. The drip of the faucet. The hum of the distant lawn mower. The little cockroach feet on our linoleum. The hair on my arms prick up. Hey, soomeone has to kill that thing! Hey! Where's my husband? Adam? Adaaaaaaam?
Twelve steps later, I discovered the origin of my uncomfortable silence. Adam, locked away in his man room, obviously practicing helicopter take-downs. Duh. Trouble, I tell ya!
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