Last night, I'm awakened by the doorbell. Half asleep, no clue what time it is, I get dressed and stumble down the stairs as it rings for the second time. I paused at the window but didn't see anyone. As I get near the front door, someone is freakin POUNDING on it. *Note: I'm aware of all the horrid things that can happen to a small woman opening the door late at night. But on the other hand, you never know if someone out there needs help.
I get up to the door and it's my neighbor waving and saying, "It's only me!" So I open the door and stick my bed-head outside and he tells me that my garage door is open and he chased off some guys from back there. Now, I don't know about your neighborhoods, but most neighbors where I live wouldn't give a moment's care to someone else being robbed. So I thanked him, threw on some shoes and ran around back. All I did was close the door, I was too tired to go and find out if half our stuff was missing, since I really wasn't in the mood to file a police report.
Thankfully, nothing was missing upon review this morning.
Getting back to the point here. Yesterday after dinner, Belly was playing with Daddy's keys at the dining room table and he said, "Look! I opened the garage door!" because there is, indeed, a garage door opener on his keys. I took the keys away but didn't really think about it. Yeah. Good job.