It's been quite warm lately in our neck of the woods.
How warm, you might ask? Warm enough that I'm baring my blindingly white legs in red shorts today. Warm enough that I'm able to say "Ugh...it's going to get so hot in the house if I cook..." and Chris agrees that we should just eat cold sandwiches for supper. Warm enough that my peonies and my freckles have both started blooming. Warm enough that my radio is playing a steady stream of country music and southern rock at all times. And last but not least, warm enough to sleep with the windows open.
Look, I'm just as paranoid as any other mother when it comes to sleeping with the windows open, but to be blunt - it's hot as shit in our house and being the tyrant that I am, I refuse to turn on the air conditioning until June. Most nights, the windows are shut and closed at bedtime, and then re-opened first thing in the morning. Occasionally though, it's just too hot to leave them closed.
To make a long story short - someone tried to break into our house last week.
I closed the windows to our bedroom on Wednesday night, forgot to open them on Thursday, noticed a breeze coming through on Friday evening, and woke up on Saturday morning to find that someone (no one who lives in our house) had removed the screen to one of our bedroom windows.We have large 3 panel bay windows on that side of the house, and the one in our room is directly above Miles's bed.
|Ironically, this pic was taken Wednesday evening. The window behind Miles is the one referred to in this post.|
We believe that it happened on Thursday evening because it's the only time that no one was at home. Thankfully, nothing was stolen and we were able to put the screen back into the window frame once we found it (cleverly hidden behind the kids' outdoor play kitchen).
The fact that some uninvited person may or may not have been in our house scares me, makes me feel violated, and flat out pisses me off. For the sake of my sanity because I refuse to be a victim, I'm going to assume that this turd burglar reads my blog and I'd like to pass along a few things for that person to keep in mind, should they decide to return:
1.) Seriously, of all of the well kept houses in this neighborhood, you picked ours? Is this your first B & E or what? Was it the brush pile in the ditch or the sweet collection of plastic sand toys next to the freshly built mud hole that lured you into our yard? The dead rose bush caught your eye maybe? Or was it the child-height smears of lip gloss on the front window that screamed to you "Hey! I'll bet these schmucks have a ton of valuable things!" Guess what? The resale value on 99% of our belongings is equal to the price of a jar of peanut butter. You must be a new reader - check out this post and rethink things.
2.) We called the cops and an officer came out to assess the situation. Actually, we called them 3 times 16 hours before someone showed up at our house, but the point is, someone (I'd say his name, but the officer never actually told me his name) with a freaking badge promised that GCPD would increase patrols in our neighborhood. You've got to love living in a town where 'calling the non-emergency number' translates into leaving a message (or two in our case) on the answering machine at the police station. For the record, residents of Garden City, any time you want an officer to come to your house - even if it's for something small and not an emergency - you should call the Cass County Sheriff right off the bat, rather than waiting for the GCPD to respond. Otherwise, you run the risk of the officers accidentally deleting your messages before paying you a visit apparently. If you call the County, the officer miraculously shows up within about 3 minutes. Do I sound bitter? Probably. Your disturbance really put me in a frustrating situation, and to be honest, if we had a gun, I probably wouldn't have called the police so that I could avoid dealing with the sequel to Super Troopers. I would've just sat up all night and waited for you to return because that's what sane people do.
3.) I'd also like to warn you, Creeper, that when I informed Officer No Name that we don't own a gun and I had every intention of beating you to a bloody pulp with a baseball bat if you returned, the officer told me (jokingly) that I could do whatever I needed to do to keep my family safe before they put your sorry ass in the patrol car and hauled you to County. Let's get this clear, I smile a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm nice - especially if I'm trying to keep my children safe. I could never throw a ball very well, but I was a decent batter. I liked to swing at the low ones, so you're likely to need surgery on your lower extremities and lose the ability to reproduce if you come back. Plus, we watch The Walking Dead here, so trust me, I'd definitely remember to smack you right upside the head with said baseball bat despite my preference for grounders. You might come in walking upright, but you'll be rolled out on a stretcher. That's a promise!
In short, if you're a local, let this be a warning that strange things are a foot in GC.
And if you're the idiot criminal who completely sucks at your career? High five, loser, you have succeeded at being a failure at life in general.