I was a little bit late getting to bed a couple nights ago. It was around 2am. I laid down, wrapped a scarf around my eyes, and then turned on my audiobook to relax before going to sleep. Clancy was out in the living room, planning to come to bed soon.
Before long, I heard some burping and hiccuping. I wondered what was up with Clancy. Before long, I heard Clancy’s voice. I thought that maybe the hospital had called and she was on the phone. It was when I heard a man’s voice that my attention was grabbed. Clancy doesn’t watch television. I doubted she was on speakerphone. What was going on?
So, I walked out to the main room and there was a man in our living room, talking to Clancy. He looked around college age. He seemed to be saying that we were in his house. He wasn’t angry or irate. He was drunk, and confused. It was apparent that he had entered our house by mistake. Clancy was talking to him patiently, explaining that he was, in fact, in the wrong house. It was only a few minutes later – albeit a couple of long minutes – before he conceded that he was probably in error. “Maybe I should go out and try to find my house.” We were supportive of the conclusion that he had reached. He left.
He then started walking to the back, where I’d later found out that he had come from. We have two entrances to the house. The front door, and through the garage in back. The garage is as loud as all get-out. And the bedroom I was in was right next to it. I couldn’t believe that he had opened the door without my hearing it. Clancy should have been able to hear it from the front.
We have been thinking about it ever since, and we simply cannot figure out how when he entered the house. We had the sinking suspicion that he had actually been there for a while. We’re not sure how long. I think shorter, he thinks longer. We think he may have been in the recliner in the guest room.
We really don’t know. What we do know is that he ate my wife’s leftover tacos from the fridge. Which means that he was in the living room at some point. Since I had gotten the tacos at 8:30, it means that somehow he entered the kitchen, went to the fridge, and got some tacos while Clancy was on the sofa. Without her noticing.
We cannot figure out how what apparently happened actually happened. He was evidently too drunk to realize he was in the wrong house, but sober enough to go undetected throughout the house. To stealthily enter through the garage, get food from the fridge, and so on.
Maybe we’re both a whole lot more sleep deprived than we think.