So we got home from kilt night at about 11:30 or so. The wife and I had settled down to our computers to get through with all the e-mails and stuff that always seems to pile up whenever we go out. Along about midnight there is a loud crash from the bedroom. I got up and headed into the bedroom, grabbing the nearest thing I could that would act as a defensive weapon. Lo and behold, it just happened to be my mini katana. (And my mother thought my sword collection would never be useful.) Got into the room and discovered that someone had thrown not one, but three rocks at our bedroom patio door. Luckily, it was a double pane door and only the outer pane broke. They were gone by the time I got the door open, because Helena had screamed when it happened.

So, thank Goddess, I didn't actually have to use it. But I do think I would have liked to see the reaction on the crook's face when a large man in a kilt brandished a sword at him.