Does anybody else have to ninja their way into their own home so that no one sees them?
Well, I do.
See, we have a blended family and there’s all kinds of kids, friends, exes, and transients that seem to circulate in or around our house. And somehow this has become ok. It’s the norm.
I can hang with this new ‘norm’ … for a little bit. Until I can’t – until I have one of those days where I want to go to the gym and come home sweaty and have no one to say hello to but my mascara smudged self in the mirror.
I had one of those (common) days and this time proved to myself that I am actually quite the acrobatic sneak when I don’t want to have to hug the ex wife, fix a flat tire on a bike or say hello to the nosy neighbor before having a shower.
So, here I was – planning my entrance to my house.
I creeped up the street and saw the cars I didn’t want to see, the neighbor I didn’t want to hear gossip from, the ex I didn’t feel like small chatting with and the gardener I really didn’t want to get landscape advice from. My day was over and I wanted to feel clean with a glass of wine…. Alone.
I searched my brain for the quickest, easiest way I could enter my own house and escape the racket that ensued my front porch.
That’s when I saw it. The ninja-esque entrance.
As soon as I saw the posse of people raining in on my alone time parade, I put the car in reverse and without notice, parked the car behind the curve of the street. They’ll never know I was here, I mischievously laughed to my imaginary friend in the passenger seat.
I then tip-toed my way down the street, hiding between trees, bushes and parked cars. When the coast was clear by the house, I snuck into the yard and thanked myself for leaving the window to our bedroom open. A little pop of the screen and a few rose thorn scrapes later – I was IN. My bedroom smiled back at me…. You’re home.
I turned the bathtub on and escaped 1 hour later, refreshed and without never a guess in sight from anyone, but instead a warm welcome home.
Oh no she didn’t, you might say….
But as statistics prove… I, in fact did.