You know the one I’m talking about. Three hard raps on the door. It can only mean one thing.

The Makisupas are here.

My morning started ungodly early…as always. It was now 7am and Jimmy had been awake for more than a hour. Chase had just woken up and I was changing his diaper.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

I was immediately transported to the mindset of a much younger version of myself. A much shadier version of myself. A much more scared of the Po Po version of myself. I poked me head into the office to peek out the window.

EEK! A cop car. I was right. Then I remembered that I’m not shady anymore. Now I was pissed. Why the hell were the police knocking on my door at 7am?

I answered the door and stepped into the sun room, squinting in the light. The floor was freezing (um…hello 55 degrees on Sept 1st) and I was not happy about all this. He started asking me questions about if I had seen anyone walking around the neighborhood early this morning. Dude. It’s 7am, how early are we talking. I told him that I hadn’t, and even if I had…I wouldn’t have paid attention since the drunk down the street walks home from the bar at all hours anyway. He thanked me, and told me to have a nice day.

YO. DUDE. Can a girl get some details? My imagination is not something to let run rampant with information like this. By noon I will have myself convinced that a serial killer is hiding in the corn field (yes, there is a corn field across from my house,no, I do not live in the boonies), when really some kid was probably trying to sneak a padlock on the gate of the little league baseball diamond behind my house. UGH. Now I’m going to be thinking about this all day.

Oh…and Mr. Makisupa Man? Thanks for the reminder that I HADN’T been woken up by a cop knock on my door at 7am. I wish I could sleep that late.