In our old house, our kitchen was a ‘happenin’ place.
It was a school day and the kids had all come home for lunch. My girlfriend Linda, had brought her three children over as well, so it was a full house. The six children were all nestled in at the kitchen table, giggling and gobbling down noodles and vegetables. I was on the phone with my husband, just saying hi and reviewing the day.
All of a sudden, Linda’s face turned white, her jaw dropped open and she pointed to the road behind our house. (Yes, the same road that the vaulted casket slid down) I looked out the kitchen window and there were two SWAT guys with rifles, lying on their bellies and motioning for us to “get down!”
I pride myself in staying calm in crisis…but not this time. I screamed into the phone, “I gotta go – there are two men in our backyard with guns!), slammed down the phone and yelled at the top of my lungs, “get down!” Shortly after, I ordered everyone to run out the front door. It was total chaos as Linda and I grabbed the babies and we all scrambled through the hall, bumping into each other and escaping from the “bad guys with the guns,” as my son named them.
It turns out that the man who lived in the house at the bottom of the road was holding his girlfriend hostage, hence all the police action. Apparently, this man had run out of the house and into our neighbourhood. Now that I think back on all the action, it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to have our kids running all over the front lawn!
It was a crazy time. Whenever Linda and I think about the absurdity of that experience, we can’t seem to stop laughing about it. As time goes by, our recollections seem to get more and more embellished. That’s what happens with a good story, right? Just ask any fisherman!
The older I get, the more I enjoy the “remember when?..” moments in my life.