Many moons ago my stepdad and I left for church one Sunday evening. We were arguing over something and a mile or so from the house he kicked me out of the car and continued on to church as I walked home. When I got back to the house I was surprised to see that my mom and sister weren’t there. I *think* they’d said they weren’t feeling so good and had decided to skip church. Whatever the reason they’d stayed home only, they were no where to be found!
I was standing in the living room near the open front door when I saw Mom’s car pull into the driveway. I decided that since they didn’t know I was there it was the perfect opportunity to scare them and ran to the bathroom (or my bedroom, honestly don’t remember where I was when I got them) to hide. What made this spur-of-the-moment plan even better was that I hadn’t thought to shut the front door and since they knew they’d left the front door closed, they thought someone had gotten into the house.
Couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried!
They’d left right after we had to go and pick up supper. Knowing them it was probably shrimp of some sort. Anyway, my sister was going to be brave and check the house out while Mom held on to the box of take-out. My sister had a rake in her hand for “protection” as she crept through the house looking for a burglar. OH! I was in our bedroom! When she was in front of the door I stuck my arm straight out, fast, from behind the door that was open most of the way. I may have also growled. She screamed, threw me the rake (literally right into my open hand!) and ran back to the kitchen where Mom, on hearing her scream, had thrown their food in the floor. They were SO MAD AT ME!
Fond childhood memory, that one!