That was the most exciting a Saturday night has been for me in a while.

2am found me rolling out of bed and stumbling my way downstairs for some medicine to fend off a migraine.  That alone is an adventure because I cannot see squat in the dark.  No night vision whatsoever.  But I made it down the stairs without maiming myself in the process, so I counted it as a success. 

As I'm popping my pills, I realized that there is a very loud ruckus coming from outside at the front of my house.  So I'm running around in my nightgown, peeking through all the windows, but I can't see what is making the noise to save my life. 

So I head back up the stairs, turning on every light I come in contact with once I get into our room because I'm secretly hoping my husband will wake up and go check this out for me.....because I was scared, and really, "Checking out the shit that goes bump in the night" is like #3 on the "Shit you have to do when you are a husband" list.  But alas, no such luck.  I could drive a firetruck, sirens blaring, through our bedroom and hubs would just roll over and throw another pillow over his head. 

I threw on some pajamas, head back downstairs, and out the front door.  Still nothing.  The sound is MUCH louder, and obviously coming from between our house and our neighbors' though, so I time my launch off the front porch when I know that the ONE sprinkler Housing Maintenance had installed was spraying my garage door instead of toward the lawn.

I land in the soggy grass........

....and immediately get shot across the chest by a sprinkler from our neighbor's yard. 

Now let me tell you about these sprinklers.  They are these little 2-inch black things that raise up out of the ground and rotate-spray on a timer.  I knew about the one at the end of my driveway.  I did not know about the 20 others they have scattered throughout the tiny, shared yard between our houses. 

So, I run.  And with every step, I'm shot by yet another fucking sprinkler.  I feel like I'm caught in the crossfire of the least deadliest war zone ever (seriously!  Who needs that many sprinklers?!).  I was out there, at two o'clock in the morning ducking and dodging sprinklers like a mad woman, barefoot, soaking wet, and cussing up a storm. 

When I finally make it through the maze of sprinklers, I find the source of the whole ruckus....a busted water pipe.  It was trying to rip the gutter off the side of my house with sheer water pressure.  There was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I sprint back through the liquid obstacle course, stomp my way upstairs, change my wet clothes and dry off, cut off all the lights, and get back into bed. 

Hubby never even rolled over.