shhh shhh hide! someone is here!

Growing up in "rural Lindstrom" had its advantages but mostly, disadvantages to us kids.
We lived too far out. None of our friends were really close by - maybe 1/2 mile but Cty Rd 14 was too dangerous to ride our bikes on.
Half of my little kid life was spend in town. I was able to ride my bike around, play with the neighbors, go to Big Scotts, Dairy Queen - thinking back, both of my parents worked very close by - probably the perfect location, at the time.
We moved out to the house when I was in 2nd/3rd grade. I picked out the carpet and the border for my room - dusty rose - best choice EVER. Things were going great. We had acres and acres of woods to play in, a river - OUR river to fish and throw stuff into - it was perfect.
One summer day - maybe a year or 2 after moving in - on our way back from the sitters - Brendan, Bridget, Mom and I got home and noticed something was off as we pulled into the driveway. Little Bob - our inside cat - was outside.
Well. that's weird. As we parked the car mom noticed the garage door leading into the house was busted open.

We had been robbed.

I don't remember the sequence of events because in reality, it was incredibly traumatizing. I didn't understand why robbers would come to our house! I remember looking around and seeing the mess they made; they threw Kool-Aid all over the couches and the off-white carpeting, threw pickles everywhere. They stole my piggy bank, our microwave (funny enough, that thing was HUGE back then - I am estimating about 100 pounds and about the size of a mini fridge...) our TV, VCR, camcorder...tons of things.
The only things I vividly remember from this event was 1) Little Bob was outside and Garage KiKi came inside 2) My mom's smashed coffee mug near the sliding doors in our dining room. I held it in my hands and broke down crying 3) Tom Henkel's Dad came to investigate this (he was the Sheriff's Deputy at the time) and his name was Dan just like my dad.

For a long time after the break in, I was unable to sleep over at a friend's house. I was scared - I felt vulnerable. I hated when my friends fell asleep before me. I would go over with all intentions of sleeping over and end up calling my mom or dad at 10-11pm to come and get me - heading back to the scene of the crime - strange but being at home felt safer than being somewhere else.

My parent's got a shitty alarm system - probably purchased at Hardware Hanks and told us "NEVER ANSWER THE DOOR WHEN WE ARE NOT HOME". Fair enough. We didn't get many visitors out where we were. Someone's car broke down and needed to use the phone, Jehovah witnesses...just randoms visitors.

One day in middle school, I forgot my clarinet on the bus. Nice Matt Dummer - not even 5 minutes after I got dropped off - came to my house to drop off my clarinet.
The doorbell rang. I hid in the bathroom - I was home alone. I hid...for a long time until he left - leaving my clarinet on the porch. He asked me the next day where I was - seemed strange that I just disappeared. I told him my mom picked me up and we went shopping.

To this day, my brother, sister and I all run and hide when someone comes to our door that we are not expecting. I make DD answer the door at our house - even if I can see its a little kid. My brother told me once he ignored the door for a long time at his townhouse and then looked out to see an old man waiting with a cane. He went and answered the door.