He is something. And I have got back at him several times. We lived together (in sin as my mother called it, and wouldn't enter our apartment because that would be saying it's OK, and if you do it once it'll be easier the next time meaning living with a man) we worked different shifts. I worked eight to four during the day, and he worked four to midnight for the first month, and he'd come home for dinner at eight, and you could hear his Harley coming so I hid behind the front door and waited until he came through the door, then I reached out and touched him. He screamed and jumped a foot. I loved it. He still had his helmet on. So, he's taken to sending small children into dark rooms before him to check it out now. He would chase me around the apartment with a water pistol, now in his defense he did give me a water pistol, and sit on me holding me down and dribble spit until I said uncle. It was like rasing John Belushi
http://youtu.be/Tu1RZaFnkKs