Every morning I get up between 10:00 and noon. Why, thank you! Yes, I AM quite breathtaking, due to all that beauty sleep. Which commences around 5:00 a.m.
Anyhoo... I go to the kitchen and plug in my (NOT-I) phone (NOT-8), take a pill, wash dishes, and go sit on the end of the coffee table in front of the living room window, perusing the innernets on my laptop, HIPPIE.
The Pony usually stays in his room until I'm ready to leave for town. Can you believe that? He doesn't want to bask in my presence? Most days, he will open up his door a crack, to better hear me when I call to him about what he will want for lunch.
Thursday morning, I was up a little early. 10:15. I puttered around on HIPPIE, while glancing sideways at the TV on my left for a marathon of Jersey Shore. Did you know that Sammie liked MIKE (The Situation) before RONNIE? I'd forgotten that.
Anyhoo... around 10:45, I heard the "snick" of The Pony's door as it opened. He didn't say anything. Sometimes I think he's just spying on me to see what I'm doing. Then he goes back to lie on his bed with his laptop, watching TV in there. If I turn around, I can see the reflection of the screen off the glass of a plaque on his wall. I don't turn around much, because it hurts my neck to do an owlish 180-degree twist.
At 10:50 I was checking the local online newspaper (Two Injured in Motorcycle-Deer Accident) when a movement outside caught my eye. Somebody was walking across the yard, right off Shackytown Boulevard! Who in the Not-Heaven WAS that??? I squinted. A few more steps... approaching the porch...
IT WAS THE PONY!
Imagine, if you will, observing your son (whom you'd just heard five minutes earlier, opening his bedroom door)... WALKING ON THE OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE!
The Pony entered through the front door.
"What are you doing?"
"Coming in the house?"
"I just heard you open the door of your room!"
"No you didn't. I've been helping Dad. Cut my finger, too. I'm getting a bandaid."
"So you've been out there all this time?"
"For about an hour. He made me go help hang some stuff in the sheds."
"I swear, not five minutes ago, I heard you open your door!"
"Not me. I left it open. Maybe it was Genius's door. It's open."
"No, it was open when I got up. From you and Dad getting those batteries last night. I didn't look at your door this morning."
"Huh. Maybe when the air conditioning kicked on, it moved Genius's door?"
"No. It was the latch sound."
"Here. Let me try mine."
The Pony went to his bedroom and moved the door back and forth. It made a squeak.
"No. Not that. It didn't squeak."
The Pony closed it all the way, then opened the door.
"No. That latch was too hard. This was just barely the little click. THAT'S IT! But not the squeak!"
"I don't know how it would have done that. I left it open when I went out. It was just now open when I came in."
"I don't know either. But I have a feeling something was watching me..."
I'm going to look at The Pony's door every morning now. For a baseline. Just in case.