Surely, we'll look back and laugh.

Rob would have titled this post "Drew is an idiot."

Rob and I are in the kitchen. Rob's eating a cookie, I'm reading about Fats Domino, Barbara's off doing who-knows-what because I've done my best to just not pay attention to her for the past several days. All of a sudden, BAM!

First, I think someone had dropped something. Then, I realize it was a gunshot coming from my bedroom. As all manner of horrible things race through my mind, I try, unsuccessfully, to get up from my chair at the dining room table at rocket-fast speeds to run to my bedroom to make sure my husband's alive. Except I couldn't actually get up. My feet just couldn't catch hold and I fell... twice... on my ceramic flooring. When I finally was able to get up and start hauling booty to the bedroom screaming my husband's name at the top of my lungs, I hear a very startled "I'm okay, I'm okay" coming from the bedroom. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being the most horrified anyone could possibly be at any one moment in time, I was at a 349571093847610938451347590138560293847592374 1/2. I felt something in my brain pop and I ran outside.

Drew, Rob, Barbara, and Barbara's neighbor Jose are going down to Slidell tomorrow to see the state of Barbara's and Jose's houses. Since the danger level in the area is somewhat heightened, Drew has decided to bring two handguns and a rifle for any necessary self-defense. I think he had one bullet in the chamber, went to uncock the hammer, and his finger slipped and he shot the gun. Thankfully, he knows just enough about gun safety to not point at anything you don't want to shoot. Except maybe the ceiling. He's always hated our ceiling. Oh, and the roof. We're not quite sure where the bullet is now. There were no ambulances, so we reckon everyone's okay.

Meanwhile, our heroine is standing outside trying not to flash back to the only other time she's heard a gun go off in a house. Drew comes out, still rather harried, apologizing profusely. I shoved him as hard as I could, called him a schmuck, then told him that all guns are to be unloaded, carried out of my house, and never to return again and I don't want to hear any **** about how he knows how to handle a gun, thankyouverymuch. Rob comes out to see if I was okay. Apparently, that was quite the nasty spill I took. Twice. Barbara comes out, not to see if anyone was okay, but to see what caliber bullet it was that went screaming through my bedroom ceiling.

Everyone went back inside, except for me. No, I went to the garage, sat down, and started rocking back and forth crying. Did I mention how amazingly horrified I was? Did I mention that that must have been the most terrifying moment of my life? Eventually, after Rob and Drew came out and I calmed down as much as possible, a few friends came over and I walked inside to assess the damage. There is quite the tiny hole in my ceiling. Since we don't have any extra shingles right now, Drew had to caulk the hole in the roof. He went a wee bit overboard with the caulk, and now it looks like there's a mushroom on my roof. I'll have pictures eventually.

At least we know my heart's healthy, because surely that would have given me a heart attack.

Yeah, someday we'll look back and laugh. Still, that boots out the previous No. 1 on my Most Horrifying Moments of My Life list.

Thank you, USA Network, for having a 12-hour Law and Order: SVU marathon on tomorrow. I think that's just what the doctor ordered.