Midnight

It's 12:00 AM. Your toddler is in your bed. Your husband is playing a rock and roll show at a local bar. It's dark and you are just about asleep.

"What's that noise?" your toddler asks. (Why is she awake? When you find out, LET ME KNOW!)

"What noise?" you ask groggily. No answer. "What noise, sweetie?"

"'That noise."

You have recently been diagnosed with mild hearing loss. You concentrate, straining your cursed damaged ears to hear something. All you can hear is the constant buzzing you always hear. (Stupid ears!)

It's nothing, you tell yourself. She's just tired.

But wait! What was that?! Some sort of jingle or shaking noise. Or a footstep?

Your mind jumps to intruders (possibly dressed as court jesters to account for the jingling) and you race through all the options of how to get your toddler and sleeping baby in the other room to safety. You will, of course, fight off these dastardly home-invading RenFest rejects with your last dying breath, if need be. Should you stash the kids in the closet and hope they're quiet? Break a window and toss them to the ground outside?

Your body is tensed, your arms ready to reach for the light, either to turn it on or brandish it like a weapon.

The cat jumps on the bed. You sigh with relief.

Fin.