Posted in Family Matters

They do say all things come to she who waits. Including, as it turns out, the chance to foil a daring daylight robbery. So, my chance came last week and while I did foil it, the glow of accomplishment was somewhat dimmed by the fact that (A) I didn't realize until about 20 minutes after we were home that someone had, in fact, been involved in said daring robbery, and scurried out the back when he heard me turn the key in the lock; and (B) in fact, he wasn't completely foiled, having made away with upwards of $1500 worth of electric guitar, case, and most of our jewelry. All mine, of course, except for hubby's wedding ring which was in my jewelry case. Along with my OWN wedding ring. We exchanged anniversary rings on our 20th wedding anniversary a couple of years ago, and we both wear those daily now.

Other than actually locking the doors when we left, I guess our house was pretty much an open invitation to a random robbery. And I do think it was random; anyone casing the house would have known I was normally home on that day at that time. But all the window blinds facing the fenced back yard were wide open, allowing anyone to see almost every part of the house and certainly enough to ascertain it was empty. The north side of our long, narrow yard rises up to meet the block fence; and while I certainly couldn't scramble over it, I can see that it would present no problem to a reasonably agile young male. Across the fence, the neighbors have a huge, heavy growth of oleanders, under which the utility company obligingly keeps a trimmed pathway next to my fence for an access to various wires, providing ample cover for anyone to stand completely unseen and scope the backyard and as much as he could see into the house.

So after watching a while, he jumped the fence and paced the length of the house, checking that it was empty and seeing what was out and accessible. My husband's brand new electric guitar - his gift from his mother for finishing his disseration before Christmas last year - was what he spotted. He crowbarred the back door in my bedroom right open, busting the lock and splintering the doorjamb. He picked up my son's guitar case, removed his cheap student guitar, and replaced it with the electric guitar. Then into the master closet where he was a little over halfway through my jewelry chest when he heard me unlocking the door and scarpered. He obligingly pulled the door shut behind him so I wouldn't immediately notice someone had been inside.

The first thing I said on walking into the living room was, "Hey, you didn't put your guitar away this morning!" When my son replied he had, I told him to put it away again, since someone else must have taken it out. I didn't pay attention when he told me he couldn't find his case; he never notices anything, does he?

Then I plopped down in my comfy big chair, less than 3 feet away from the broken back door. And I never noticed the broken lock and splintered jamb. When the phone rang I went to answer, and there was my little silver box, where I put my anniversary band and everyday earrings at night. Open and empty. What pops into my head except ... The Three-Year-Old. She obligingly told me that yes, she HAD gotten into my jewelry, and obediently led me through the house, looking all over for where she could have put it. She took me into the playroom, scuffed around on the floor for a minute, then sweetly pointed up to the top of the closet. I swatted her bottom, then. :-(

While storming back to my bathroom, I saw that the amplifier to the electric guitar was pulled out into the middle of the room and while looking for the 5yo to scold this time, I saw that the electric guitar was, in fact, not on its stand. (I guess he figured the amplifier was too heavy to take over the wall with him.) I actually, actually made a circuit of the house twice, looking for where they had laid it, while it slowly crept into my robber-resistant mentality that a 3yo and 5yo could not, in fact, have dragged an electric guitar anywhere in our mostly tile-floor house without my hearing it. That’s when my spidey-senses, which had been set to 'tingle' about since I saw the amplifier pulled out of place, started roaring up and down my spine. Having traversed the entire house twice, and even been in the garage, I knew no one was going to leap out at me so I didn’t start a mad trample for the front door. Instead, I checked the back yard door in the kitchen – locked and okay; then walked rather slowly back to my bedroom, past the squashy green chair where I had retired oh-so-briefly 10 minutes earlier, to brush back the branch of spindly ficus that obscured the lock on the door and the splinters surrounding it.

At this point, dear reader, the story is pretty well told. Except for the fact that, NATURALLY, my husband was out of town, and not answering his cell phone. Our usual code is: I will call his phone and if he doesn’t answer, I assume he is in a meeting and will call me back when he can; on the other hand if I call back immediately a time or two, he assumes it is urgent and hies himself out of said meeting to answer my summons. He didn’t answer, didn’t answer again, and didn’t answer a third time. At this point, I brilliantly hung up and … CALLED MY SISTER. After breathlessly informing her that we had had a break-in, she queried, “Did you call the police?” Umm, no. “Why haven’t you called the police?” Because Sweetiekins didn’t answer, and I called YOU! “Hang up and call the police!” So I hung up. In mid-sentence, she informed me later, as she was still talking but when she instructed me to hang up, I just hung up! Hey, she’s my big sister, and a teacher besides! What other option did I have?

The police didn’t show up for more than two hours, during which time I was finally able to get hold of hubby. He had, in fact, left his phone in the hotel room while at a banquet. I knew that Doug was at the conference with him, and I know Doug’s wife, so I called her and asked for his cell phone number, explained briefly, and called and left a message for Doug to GET MY HUSBAND ON THE PHONE!!! Which he did, since he was at the same banquet WITH his phone. Thanks, Doug!

My sister, her husband, and her two kids spent the night with me, after the broken door was screwed shut to its frame. And believe it or not, I did manage to get a few hours of sleep that night, after checking on the kids a half-dozen times.

The police were unable to lift any fingerprints anywhere, including from the shiny surface of my son’s guitar, so sadly bereft of its case. Can you believe it, the burglar didn’t even have the courtesy to leave his books behind? Had to go find a new set of books before his weekly music lesson.