The Stranger in My Kitchen

Why we don't have guns in our house.....

The other night I heard some strange noises over Kalea's baby monitor. It sounded as though someone were in our kitchen, but I passed it off as new house paranoia. Not long after the noises began, Kalea started to cry. She never cries at night, so I got up pretty quickly to check on her. On my way down the hall, I noticed a light on in the kitchen. I was about 100% sure that I was the last one to bed and that I turned off all the lights, so I stood frozen in the hallway, my mind racing and soon my worst fears were confirmed. A shaddow of a man crossed in front of the source of light and before I knew it my feet were taking me away from my crying daughter back down the hall to my husband. I threw open our door and whispered, "THERE'S A MAN IN OUR HOUSE! SOMEONE'S HERE!!" Much to my horror, our bed was empty and Steve was gone.
Now this is the point where most people would realized that the man in the kitchen was actually their spouse, but not me, it was go time. I was high on panic and running around the room looking for a weapon. Could I poke him with a ball point pen? Whack him with a coathanger? Perhaps I could knock him out with a guitar (not mine of course, I would use Steve's). I decided to size up the situation and check out whether or not the stranger was too tall for me to use a guitar on him. I tip toed back down the hallway and peaked into the kitchen. I saw the boxer-clad stranger clearly now. He was sitting on my couch drinking a huge cup of my baby girl's milk. I went to get the guitar...
Ok just kidding, that is when I realized that the stranger was actually Steve. He was having trouble sleeping and decided to watch TV so that he wouldn't wake up the entire house. Little did he realize that everyone was now wide awake with the exception of Nathan who could sleep through a rock concert. Kalea needs breakfast, but I'll do a family update later.