Don't break into my house

A couple of weeks ago, it was extremely windy here. I'm talking 60 mph winds! It was crazy! Neighboring areas had trees, power lines, and fences blown down. Lucky for us, the only damage we had was some old branches blown out of the tree behind our house, and they landed in our yard.
The second day of these high winds, I came home to no electricity. So, no cooking. I took my girl out to eat, and we ran some errands. By the time we got home, the electricity was back on. However, the rest of the evening, the power kept flickering on and off.

At about 2am, I woke with a start. The power had just flickered off and on and back off again. I laid there, listening to the fan slow to a stop. The trees behind our house were all over the place; I watched them through my windows, bending and struggling in the wind. The wall behind my head was making odd noises.

All of a sudden, the alarm panel across the room starts flashing. A door is open. For a second I contemplate getting up and making the rounds on my own. But then, my favorite enemy Fear, shows it's ugly face, and I decide to wake up my hubby.

Me: Poking him in the ribs. "honey, honey."

Him: Snooooooorrrrre. Silence. Snoooooooooorrrrrre. Silence.

Me: 'Honey! Wake up!' Kicking him in the calves.

Him: 'Huh? Whaaaa?'

Me: 'Uh, hate to wake you, but the power went out again, and one of the doors is now open.'

Him: 'Fuck.'

So, he proceeds to get up, find his gun (cringe), and walk towards the bedroom door in his, ahem, birthday suit. I have fleeting thoughts of him coming up on an intruder, and the intruder being shell-shocked by his nakedness, not the gun.

Him: 'Where are the dogs?'

At the same exact time, me: 'Don't use this as an excuse to shoot the dogs.'

See, our dogs are old. They sleep in the living room, and they sleep through everything. Everything. They used to get all worked up when it would storm, or when weird things happened out in Springtown, but I beat them into submission, and now? They are too deaf, or too afraid of me smacking them, to even bother acknowledging any noise in the house. This time around, they didn't even stop snoring long enough to know that my hubby walked right by them with his gun cocked (no pun intended, sorta).

My husband searches the whole house in the dark, with the gun, naked. I lie in the bed, all tense, straining to make out any noise. And all I hear is the f-ing wind making the wall behind me creak.

My hubby finally makes it back, and it was just as I initially suspected: the wind was so strong that it blew open the door from the garage to the house. It doesn't have the tightest seal all the time.

No burglars, no tornado, no mad ax-murderer on the loose. Whew!!!

At this point, we are both wide awake. Hubby puts the gun back, and as he climbs back into bed, he says to me: 'Would you like to handle my glock?'

Fucking men.