Do you hear what I hear?

Lexie tells me that someone was knocking on our front door last night at around 11.30pm. Given that I am an old woman, I was fast asleep way down the other end of the house, and consequently heard nothing. But she was frozen stiff in her own bed, listening to the thudding of her own heart and the tap-tap-tapping at our chamber door.

I have valiantly agreed to construct an elaborate fortress in our apartment this evening and am presently drafting a blueprint in my head. On the weekend, when I ran out of quarters for the dryers downstairs, I constructed what looked like a fort (or cubby house) out of wet bed sheets and dining room chairs. So I figure I am well qualified to barricade us inside the house and defend us against whatever nasties are around.

I don't believe for a second that we were visited by thieves last night. For one, thieves don't knock. And I told Lexie that. But given that the only other tenants in our building (on the ground floor) are still away for the Christmas/New Year break, the only other person that could get into the main door of our building is the custodian, Fred. And if he was knocking at 11.30pm, then that goes above and beyond the call of his janitorial duty, wouldn't you say?

So rather than sit up in the shadows with warpaint on my face, and kitchen knife and the ready, I am going to make sure our door is solidly locked tonight, and give Lexie a big glass of Scotch to knock her out (because she's too old for a night light of course!).