Anyone who has ever tried to sneak into or around their own home in the middle of the night wishes they could move silently as a trained assassin would.
I know I do.
But whenever we make a concerted attempt to not wake anyone up we’re just asking for Fate to step in.
- Our keys “jingle, jangle” more than Gene Autry’s spurs. (Look him up, kids!)
- The front door opens like it’s heavier than solid oak.
- We step on the cat.
- The floor creaks like an old man’s bones.
- Our feet stick to the floor and we emit a bizarre series of sounds.
- We knock something over. Something heavy – and loud.
In my case, most of these things happen in the morning but the point remains valid: the ninja discipline wasn’t started to kill one’s enemies silently, it was started by some Asian guy trying to sneak back into his house after a night of throwing back too much warm sake.
But don’t quote me on that.