Here's the truth...thank goodness it's over!
1. K1 was playing with scissors and cut the end of his thumb off. He came downstairs, headed straight to the kitchen, then said, "I need some serious help in here". He danced around like a little girl and bled all over the place. It can't be stitched because there's nothing to stitch. True. It was not pretty. And, no, I don't know why my nearly 21 year old was playing with scissors.
2. Around midnight I woke to heavy knocking on my front door. The dog was going nuts. I tried to wake B, but he just snored and rolled over. I cautiously went down the stairs, the dog at my side and peered around the dead branches of the Christmas tree to look onto the front porch. A cop. My stomach sank. I opened the door. As soon as he saw me, he knew he had the wrong house. Right house number, wrong street. He apologized profusely and went on his way. It took me an hour to go back to sleep. The tamest of the three, and the lie.
3. I woke to a horrid smell around 1am. Figured K1 was cooking, rolled over and went back to sleep. Opened my eyes again a few minutes later and realized that wasn't a cooking smell. Went downstairs, following the awful odor into the kitchen where I found a burner on, without flame, spewing gas into our home. True. We got it aired out quick enough, but it was hours until I could go back to sleep. Nasty. And very scary. We were lucky not to wake up dead.
Both of those in one day. Yay me.