One night I had a dream.
And I was snoring really loudly, and woke up my wife.
She heard a noise at the back door that didn’t sound like our son coming off his shift from his new job. She listened as someone came slowly up the stairs and went back down again; and then she woke me up.
“I think there’s someone in the living room and it’s not Tom;” she said.
I got up and stood listening at the door while she reached for her phone.
I saw a short figure in a dark coat opening the china cabinet.
And then suddenly, three sets of lights came on at once and Tom, an off-duty policeman, still in uniform, yelled, “Police! Freeze! Hands in the air.” He then radioed for backup.
“Damn!” said the robber; then he added, “Wait a minute, you can’t charge me with stealing unless I leave the house with something.”
“Oh, you’re thinking of department stores;” said my wife, now standing at the door in her dressing gown; “This would be break and enter.”
“But;” turning to the policeman, the robber asked, “How did you get here so quickly?”
“I’m their son;” he said, “I live downstairs and was watching Saturday Night Live when my mom sent me a text from her bed on her iPhone.”
“But I distinctly heard snoring;” said the man in the coat.
“Yes, but you only heard one set of snoreprints;” my wife replied; “You should have heard two sets of snoreprints.”
“Wait a minute;” I said, “That’s now how the poem works.”
“Sure it is,” she shot back; “We’re both snorers; you normally hear two sets of snoreprints, that’s why I married you.”
…And then we laughed and laughed. Things are a lot of funnier after midnight. But both our son and the robber had never heard of the Margaret Fishback Powers poem.
I guess you had to be there.