I've never had a basement before. I've always wanted one because...it's a basement! As a kid you could hide down there and come up with all kinds of cool things to imagine like a tornado is coming and you're Dorothy and the wicked witch is coming to get you.
*ahem* Right. As I said, as a kid you could do those things.
As an adult, you could store your wine without one of those fussy wine fridges/coolers and you could hide all the junk you don't want your guests to see and I could pretend to be Martha Stewart and have all the goods to prepare for a massive party in case I ever have to throw a wedding in the backyard for 200 guests!
Hey...imagination is a very valuable asset!
Anyhow, basements also pose unimaginable threats. This is how it all played out--
Me: Pssst!! Pssst!! Honey! There's something HUGE in the basement! An animal snuck down there.
Secret Agent Man: Are you sure? You sure you weren't hearing things? The dryer is on, you know.
Me: I'm positive! I turned on the light and I heard it knock things down and hiss like a really pissed off cat. Ack! Maybe it's a raccoon!
Secret Agent Man: Just get down here.
THEN, we sent the dogs down to corner the unfortunate, foolish animal that chose to invade OUR basement.
After 10 minutes of watching my useless (but cute ) dogs sniff around, we sent them back upstairs and then we saw him!
Here's my HUGE, DANGEROUS, RABID, RACCOON:
Chipmunks are cute.