Twenty-some-odd years ago, when my wife and I were newlyweds, we lived in a house my parents owned...which was in a bad neighborhood (where I grew up). I was awakened one night to the sounds of someone messing around the house. I heard them trying to open a window...then I heard the back screen-door being forced open.
I got up and went to the bedroom closet and retrieved the only gun I owned at the time, which was a single-shot 20 gauge. I loaded a #6 game load and headed for the kitchen and met the culprit as he forced the back door open. It was dark and I barely was able to recognize that it was my drunk-ass brother-in-law fumbling his way around the kitchen. He was in the area at a party...got drunk...and was looking for a place to sleep it off. I flipped on the light and he looked at me...paused for a long moment...and said "you were gonna shoot me!" If only he knew how close I was to pulling the trigger...
He learned a valuable lesson about breaking and entering that night.