I am sitting in my office (a comfy chair in my kitchen) when a loud
in the living room startles me.
It’s 8 am. My husband has already left for work and my two daughters are both still snuggled in their beds, sound asleep. The dog is upstairs dreaming about cats. Or maybe bacon.
So why the noise?
The light from my laptop is bright, but not bright enough to see into the other room. And if any truism of life works, it is that mysterious noises will make me crave light. Lots and lots of light.
I quietly put down my laptop and tiptoe over to the nearest light switch. As light floods the kitchen I breath a sigh of relief. There are no monsters lurking in the kitchen. I’m safe.
Except the noise came from the living room, not the kitchen. The oh-so-dark-with-no-nearby-lightswitch living room.
I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and quietly place my foot on the first of two steps into the living room. I scan the abyss of darkness, searching for any sign of movement. Luckily, there is none.
I step down again, but this time the stairs squeak. In a panic I throw caution to the wind and race to the lamp to click on the light.
As glorious light floods the living room I take a moment to calm my frayed nerves. I scan the room, looking for something, anything, that could have made that horribly loud CRASH.
That’s when I spotted it. A flower in a pot on my dining room table, lying on its side.
It was the only thing in the room out of place.
But how did it fall? What could cause a plant to suddenly tip over like that?
And then I realize there is only one explanation that makes sense.
The Jupiterians are back!
You might think me crazy. After all, the Jupiterians are prone to annoying pranks. But I’m kind of glad they’re back. I’ve missed the mischievous little aliens.
I wonder where they’ve been for the past year and a half?