Good Morning, Gnome?


The start of my day today:  Phone rings, rings, rings.  Husband passes it to me.  It’s a friend of mine–who needs to talk.  It’s Sunday, it’s early, it’s just plain wrong, but I take the call anyway. Shut bedroom doors in order to let the kids sleep, and stumble upon youngest quietly playing Mystery Date–by herself in the playroom.  Okay, so far, it’s a somewhat ordinary weekend morning, but for the fact that I found a Gnome on the sill outside of our living room window.  I pulled the string to raise the blinds like I do most mornings–if husband has not already done it–and was quite shocked to see the little guy sleeping on the windowsill.  I’m still on the phone, and try to explain to friend on other end, my situation at hand, but her tale is so much more important than this gnome thing, and I don’t have a clue how to convince anyone of anything until I’ve had copious amounts of coffee in my system.  I’ve heard of Gnome mischief, but disregarded it as I believed it to be myth.  Still on phone.  Drink coffee.  Compose myself to approach the window again.  Obviously, this is not myth.  I was afraid to open the front door all day.   All day, in fear he may try to enter our home and mess the place up (even more).  Who is he?  How did he get here?  When will he leave?  What is the purpose of the visit to our home?How can he sleep so soundly?  Should we seek a new home?