A Scream in the Night

I heard the beep of the alarm system telling me that a door or window had been opened. I'm sure that less than one second passed between the beep and the scream. In less-than-one-second, many calculations were processed through my fevered brain -- proximity between the likeliest security breeches and the children; my location in relation to the children and the likely breech, the intersection between the two, the husband's location to the same; who has the most speed, fitness and muscle mass (and brown belt)... I don't know. It happened so fast. And I screamed. I screamed the husband's name and he was there in a second flat, though he had been sound asleep before. It was only the wind pushing at a utility door. Is this survival of the fittest? Survival of the children of the fittest? Yes, I may have PTSD, but between the husband and me, I think we've got things covered. And I'm glad no children were woken up. At least no external ones. And now I need to sleep. Good luck to me. Jeezus. Pass me a beer, eh? And gimme that NyQuil bottle. Thanks. You're a good pal. I hate having to sleep.