So, I'm sleeping.
And the doorbell rings. It's 12:30 in the morning. I'm not answering that. 20 seconds later, rings again.
I slip on my wife's terry red robe and slither out to the dining room. Peering through the foyer and through the beveled glass. Nobody at the front door. Check the west side. Nope. Scurry sideways to the front windows. Starting at the bottom louver of the blinds, I'm peeking out.
Yep, there's the guy. African American, 5'8", scruffy goatee, dark ball cap, white satin-like shirt with black snaps on the front out on the side walk looking at the house.
I watched him leave and walk north, cross the street, and disappear into somebody else's front yard. Needless to say, every little creak and movement from my wife and baby was heard, and perceived to be the initial stages of the home invasion. I need a nap.