Buster Benson I need more goals.
One late afternoon when I was 5 or 6 we came home (from our grandparents?) in our green VW van and we thought we heard noise from inside our house. We all entered the house and, as the whole family was walking up the hall to the bedrooms section of the house, a man came running down the hallway with a bunch of things in our arms. Who got knocked down? Was it my sister, Kristy, or was it me? I forget. I think it was Kristy. He got passed us and my mom was between him and the back door. She seemed to be trying to block his escape as they both circled around our living room table… but maybe she was trying to get OUT of his way. In any case, it seemed really dangerous and we pleaded with her afterwards never to do that again. He escaped out the back door, and had to scale a chain link fence… dropping our broken black and white TV (the only thing he had left with him) as a last ditch effort to hop the fence. Other than the getting knocked over and the sketchy confrontation around the table, we were generally amused by the event simply because he failed completely in stealing anything of any value… and almost helped us get rid of some junk.