THUD! The sound of my trashcan being tossed to the ground is recognizable at this point and pierces the silence like a shotgun. I calmly lift the heavily asleep child off of my lap and into her bed. THUD!
I am glad that I have made sure that the can is locked tonight as it has sometimes been forgotten. I am sure that the bear will soon leave as it is taking him too long to get to his goodies. My mind takes inventory of the trashcan. There's not much in there that he will want today, mostly trash from the bathrooms and bedrooms, a lot of paper, not many food scraps as we have been stretching our dinners into leftover lunches. He will be disappointed with his haul today.
I walk quietly to the back door to survey the damage and there he is, strolling through the yard. On all fours his back is easily taller than the trunk of my car, he seems to sense my presence as he lifts his nose and sniffs the air in my direction. I walk back to the living room thinking that he will soon leave.
For the next two hours, I hear him playing with the trashcan, rolling it from one side to the other. Tossing it into the side of the house, the porch. Popping the inflatable pool that has been the source of so much enjoyment this summer (there are muddy pawprints in the bottom of the pool to confirm this).
All goes silent and I hesitantly walk to the back door. I don't see him, so I open the door and step out onto the porch to see what he has done. Trash bags lay scattered all over our driveway and yard. He stands up on two feet to see me and then turns back to his dinner. I walk back inside, tomorrow will be a long day as well.
Fast forward to the next morning. I know that during the night the naked child has climbed into my bed (I am not sure why it is necessary to strip off all of your clothes when you wake in the middle of the night to climb in your parent's bed, but apparently, in her world, this is how it is done). When I don't find her through my barely opened eyes and outstretched arms, I start to think that perhaps I have imagined almost elbowing her in the face the three times that I yelled at the Hubs to turn off his damn alarm clock this morning.
Then I hear her voice. Outside. Talking to the handy man that is adding rails to our deck.
She has dressed herself, even put her shoes on the right feet and has managed to open the backdoor without waking me. Now I am scared.
What happens if she decides to go on a nighttime stroll in her nakedness? What if my sleeping child encounters the hungry bear that seems to no longer fear the humans that he terrorizes? What if, what if, what if?
I am buying a deadbolt for the backdoor today.