First of all, that’s not my table. I just needed a pretty picture to balance the stupidity of what you’re about to endure. Brace yourself. Y’all recall when I said there were two incidents regarding the police being called to my house? Well, here ya go. Remember, it’s all true. (sigh)

Incident #2

This is humiliating.  I mean seriously.  So, why am I sharing it?  Why not!  One night when my husband was out of town, I went to put my littles to bed and when I came back into the kitchen, there were two pans of food (think catered from a reception) on my breakfast room table. The pans had a sticker with someone else’s last name on them.  Ummmm…..who’s here?  I called my oldest downstairs and she had no idea.  I knew the littles had no idea.  I went outside to check if someone was in my yard.  Nope.  I was racking my brain for several minutes.  I was stumped and bewildered and slightly freaked out.  I called my husband.  He said to call the police.  Oh, for the love of it.  Well, of course, y’all know I called.  Here’s how the conversation went:

911 Dispatcher:  911 What’s your emergency?

Me:  OK.  I know this sounds crazy, but someone left food on my kitchen table. 

911 Dispatcher:  Ma’am, what?  Someone is in your house?

Me:  I don’t know.  My husband is out of town.  I put my littles to sleep and when I came back in the kitchen, there were two pans of food on my table.

911 Dispatcher:  Ma’am, so someone opened your refrigerator and put food on your table?

Me (OMG):  NO.  Look.  I already know how crazy this sounds.  I know it’s being recorded, too! I know how crazy I sound.  I haven’t been drinking.  I’m not crazy.  I’ve seen enough 20/20s to know how loony I sound!  Someone has been in my house and left food on my breakfast table.  I don’t know if it’s the nutty neighbor down the road, or what!  My husband is out of town and he said to call you.  So, I am.  I feel foolish, believe me.  

911 Dispatcher (laughing):  OK.  I’ll send someone right over.

Me (laughing): OK, thank you!

We hang up.

A few minutes later, my oldest comes down and says she talked to our other neighbor and her daughter brought the food to the back door.  Since I didn’t answer the door, she walked in and dropped it on the table.  UMMMMM……Hello??????  Freaked OUT!  By this point the police are en route.  When two of our finest men in blue pull up to my house, I have to go embarrassingly tell them what happened.  I apologized profusely.  Oh.  My.  Gosh.  True story.

I’ll post a recipe soon.