I am home alone.
Richard left on Sunday morning to go to Milwaukee for some business meetings and will return tonight.
My first evening home alone was uneventful. Lauren spent the night with me and I slept soundly.
Last night was a little more interesting.
At 3:30, I heard a very loud BANG followed by Pedro growling. I sat up in bed (positive that by exposing my back to the wall that I was sacrificing any safety I might have had by staying in bed), groped for my glasses and turned on the light. Pedro was still growling and the cat ran for the back door.
WHAT was going on?
After several hours (ok, seconds), I texted Richard (as if he could help me), and stumbled to the bathroom, turning on every light that I passed.
I continued to hear very loud bangs and I was convinced that the boogey man was trying to get in through the roof to steal my baby and leave me for dead (nice, huh? Thanks, local news.).
I left most of the lights burning and went back to bed. Still, bangs were coming from overhead, but Pedro had stopped growling so I began to relax enough to THINK.
That's when I came up with this theory:
The temperature literally went from 35 degrees to 20 degrees below zero over a period of 36 hours. There was a lot of moisture in the air when it warmed up, and I can only imagine in the wooden eaves of our roof. As the temperature dropped quickly, that moisture had to go somewhere, resulting in the loud popping and banging that woke the three of us up.
I'm a freaking genius.
This entire scenario took place over the course of about 4 minutes--one tenth of the time it took me to type it all out.