So I had a couple people ask me to explain the "Handcuffed In Our Underwear" incident. I decided to type it up and make it really funny. Well, I typed it up....and I read it....but it wasn't that funny. So, I asked Kyle if he would do it because he tends to be a better story teller than I am. Well, he never did it. So, here is the "not-so-funny version". Sorry....guess I'm just not quite over it yet?? Here goes..............
I was somewhere in dreamland, as I usually am when fast asleep at 2:00 a.m. I wasn't exactly sure what it was that suddenly pulled me back into reality. Maybe it was the loud "BANG!!" that I heard at the front door or the shock of having my husband shove me off the bed and onto the floor while shouting at me to "Get Down!".
I was still trying to wake up.....What the heck is going on?? As I was trying to make sense of what I was hearing, my room was being invaded by men in black clothes, boots, and helmets. They were pointing guns at us and telling us to put our hands up in the air....
My uneventful dream was turning into a nightmare. This couldn't really be happening to me. I was pretty sure the S.W.A.T team wasn't here to recover the pack of bubble gum I stole my freshman year of high school....were they?? Not possible.
The lights had been turned on. Now they were telling me to lay face-down on my bed. What? But I am in my underwear!! They didn't care...I had better lay face-down on the bed and put my hands behind my back. I remember how tight the zip-ties were. It hurt...really bad. Kyle was asking, "What did I do??" - the only answer he was given was that they were carrying out a search warrant. We were scared. But things were slowly starting to dawn on us....
We started to recall the concerned looks we received our first Sunday at church in our new ward when we explained to people that we had just moved into the duplex on Main Street. They warned us about the people who lived in the upstairs apartment. It was rumored that they had a meth lab up there. "Creepy people", "Oh, honey...you need to be careful", "So, you moved into the 'drug house', huh?", "The Orem PD has had that place under surveylance for quite a while", "That guy was in prison for 13 years!", etc, etc, etc.
Okay...that's what's going on! The crazy guy upstairs with prison tattoos all over his body is getting busted! But why are we getting busted too??? And why the heck am I still laying here on my bed, in my underwear, with my arms zip-tied behind my back? It's been 10 minutes...and these nasty S.W.A.T. team guys keep finding their way back here to the bedroom to peek at me!!!! I am getting p.o.'d here. Can I put some clothes on? No, I can't? Why? Can someone at least cover me up with a blanket?? No? This is not cool. I am feeling extremely vulnerable and humiliated at the moment. Finally, a compassionate soul, obviously disappointed with his own unit members, throws a blanket over my exposed body. Thank you, sir.
Now comes the laughing. Uncontrollable, hysterical laughing. Kyle thinks I've gone crazy. I have definitely gone crazy. Okay - help me understand - I am a law-abiding, god-fearing girl. I am the most harmless person on the face of the planet. I don't like to get in trouble - I AVOID trouble! Those men are ransacking my home. I am having trouble understanding the situation I find myself in. And...I AM IN MY UNDERWEAR!!! So I am laughing....to keep from crying.
We are finally freed from our handcuffs. It is explained to us that a search warrant was being carried out due to the fact that our upstairs neighbors were involved in drugs. The police were not aware that there was anyone else living in the building. We had been living there for a month and they had never noticed our vehicles outside! They never checked with the landlord or the utility companies to make sure there was no one living downstairs! And do you want to know the worst part? They wouldn't even apologize. They refused to. They would not admit they had messed up!!!
Oh, wait. We did get an apology a few days later....from our crazy upstairs neighbor with the prison tattoos. How nice.
Now, at the time of this unfortunate event, we were extremely traumatized. It took quite a while to get back some sense of security. We now realized that a dead-bolt can't keep anyone out of your house. You just have to kick a door hard enough and the dead-bolt will bust right through the door frame. I had nightmares of a scenario where Kyle's gun had been under the bed where he used to keep it just months before. What if he had pulled a gun out to defend us since we didn't know who was breaking down our front door? They would have fired at him. I have no doubt about that! It was a terrifying experience.
Now we just look back and laugh. What a story. I love those "get-to-know-you" nights at Relief Society where you have to tell them something about you that they don't know. Hmmm...."I have been handcuffed by a S.W.A.T. team!" .....You would actually be surprised at how many RS sisters have also been handcuffed!! :) Funny.
Anastyn and I have the following conversation nearly every day....
Me: "Who is the boss?"
I tell my girls "I love you" a lot. Sometimes I get lucky and they say "I love you" back. Sometimes I get really lucky and they say "I love you, Mommy" out of the blue without any prompting. My heart sings! 
V.I.P. Christmas Hayride
