911...it's you again?

We've lived in this small town for five years now and in that time I have called the police more times than I ever did in my life previous to living here. Since we live on Main Street we see a lot of crazy stuff happen. I've seen a man pulled off to the side of the road beating his child, I've seen a man across the street from my house yelling so loud at his girlfriend/wife/whatever that he was going to beat her into next year, our neighbors (which happens to be Jared's Aunt and Uncles mechanic shop) have been broken into at least 4 or five times, we've seen the post office catch on fire in the middle of the night. I'll stop there but I could go on.

Anyway, yesterday takes the cake. I finally called for myself. The girls and I had just got home from the grocery store and I was standing in the kitchen making them lunch. Kimber was in her booster at the table eating a banana. When we got home we left the back door open and had locked and dead bolted the security door. All of the sudden I hear someone try to open the back door. My first thought was what the heck is Jared doing home? I looked out the window and didn't see his truck. Addie instantly yelled "Dad's home!" Kimber could see directly to the back door from where she was sitting and turned to look. She stared for a good 10 seconds at whatever was going on. I was way to scared to go and look so I waited a minute before going to the door. Once I looked I saw no one, of course. I called Jared who called Jerome (he is the head mechanic next door) who came right over to check it out. He didn't find anything or anyone. Eventually Jared talked me into calling the police just to make a report because there have been a number of home invasions in the last few weeks.

The moral of the story: don't ever think that since you live in a small town you are safe from creeps!