Last week Brandon and I went on a mid-week date night to the movies.
We saw Cabin in the Woods, which is an entirely different story in and of itself.
We left the movie without speech. Bizarre, is really all I can say about that.
So we get home and Brandon goes into the bathroom to pee and yells,
"Looks like someone pooped and forgot to flush."
Umm, excuse me?
I absolutely did NOT leave any poop in the toilet.
So I reply that clearly it must have been him.
We get in a debate back and forth, each of us swearing in certainty that it was not us.
Suddenly, I stop and look around our dark house,
and the creeps settle over me in a big way.
Someone else has pooped in our house while we were out.
My heart starts to pound as I envision the pooping culprit hiding in the closet.
Has he left poops on our pillows?
In the guest room?!
I beg Brandon to flush the enormous poop and be rid of it.
He flushes.
It won't go down.
He flushes again.
Still there.
When I saw it float back out the second time I ran shrieking from the bathroom.
{We can blame the horror movie we had just watched for my hysteria.}
Brandon goes to look outside and I panic,
"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?! YOU CAN'T LEAVEEEE"
I plead and beg,
certain that if he leaves the room the pooper will come creeping out of hiding.
I follow him outside.
I don't know what we're looking for.
We live in a duplex, and the unit next to us is vacant while the owner finishes repairs.
We determine that it must be a worker.
Since the house next door is empty, they must not have toilet paper.
So either our landlord gave them a key to our unit, or they broke in.
Either way they pooped,
thought they had flushed and hidden all evidence,
not realizing it had floated back out to betray their presence.
Brandon gets all upset and decides that he's going to call our landlord
and confirm that he isn't letting anyone into our home.
But then we realize how absurd it will sound if he asks us
"WHY"
we think someone was in our house.
"Well you see Scott, there was a massive poop in the toilet."
So what do we do?
We set booby traps.
Yes, booby traps.
Brandon places toothpicks in the front door and the back door
and my job is to make sure they are still sticking out of the doors when I get home from work.
They were.
But I'm still terrified that he's out there somewhere
watching...
waiting...
pooping.