So he got out of bed, looked out the window, and saw no truck.
OK, he put his pants on, grabbed a hammer, and kicked open #3's door—absolutely nothing in there.
That's not to say we can't have mice or rats, but we've seen no signs.
So he checked out Daughter's room, and he left the door half open, went on to check the back of the house, and her door slammed shut.
OK, that could have been a breeze, although it takes a little effort to slam it like it slammed, and even with two fans going, her door has never slammed unless she slammed it.
No, she was cowering on the fold out bed in the master bedroom with us.
OK, whatever, Husband told us the next noise we could just deal with alone.
I hadn't been asleep for more than a half hour when Daughter woke me up, saying that someone was walking again, which I could hear also, but I told her to ignore it.
No, not the animals; the poor guinea pig was huddled tightly under her igloo in Daughter's room, and the cats were locked in a crate in the laundry room.
Maybe another fifteen minutes went by and Daughter woke me saying something was whistling in the kitchen.
I told her to shut the door and go back to sleep.
Hey, except for the time the boys kept getting pinched, it's never physically hurt us, you know; just go to sleep and ignore it.
It was a very active night.
We've always had activity here, but it ebbs and flows, increases and decreases.
We're on an increase now, and it will decrease soon, hopefully.
