is surprised his belongings are actually worth stealing.
I’m proud to say I live in the kind of neighbourhood where people keep an eye on your house and car when you go away. The only catch is, this is partly so they can steal from them.
In recent years, ears, we’ve noticed strange objects s go missing with almost no other er explanation than out-and-out out burglary.
I say “almost” st” because my wife was pregnantnant for 18 months of those se years, and she may have visited the dump in a prenatalnatal nesting frenzy and then en completely forgotten aboutut it the next day. Search yourur hearts, ladies. You knowow it’s true.
The first object ject was an expensive stroller ller we had left on the verandah, ah, to which one might reasonablysonably say: “Well, it’s your fault for buying an expensive stroller and leaving it on the he verandah.”
In my defence,nce, I say it was a test that I set t for society – and society failed. iled.
The second object was another stroller we bought ught to replace the first one and which we had also left on the verandah,andah, to which one might reasonablysonably say: “Are you @#$%ing kidding me?”
In my defence,nce, I say I was giving societyociety a second chance. ce. The third object was a Beatles box set my wife bought me, which I did not leave on the verandah but on the front seat of my car. Granted, the car was unlocked, but that’sthat s a minor, immaterial detail. At th this point one might reason reasonably say, “What the @#$% is wron wrong with you people?”, but I feel theth real message is that impove impoverished ice junkies with great taste in music are exploiting mi middle-class office workers for th the sole crime of gentrifying th their suburbs. Honestly, w where is the gratitude? It also raises another q question: is there anything p people won’t steal? Hotel workers already kno know that any object smaller than t the bathtub ends up in the hand lu luggage faster than you can say, “Do not disturb.” And, recently, my sister strolled past a signs on a picket fence that warned passers-by to stop stealing plants f from the garden. “Seriously,” it added added, “who does that?” Sure Sure, I was once tempted to remove a bag of potting mix from my neighbour’snei front lawn, but that’s o only because I knew it was suffoca suffocating the Sir Walter. My sister and I were raised in the bel belief that the best defence against theft is to make all your worldly goods as unappealing as possible. Indeed, we grew up in a house that would actually have looked tidier if a pack of robbers had gone through it.
And so, in the case of #stroller-gate, I had falsely assumed there was little danger of someone abducting a threeyear-old Mountain Buggy held together by gaffer tape and baby mucus.
Likewise, the Beatles collection, I have to confess, was the mono version. And while I never had the choice to refuse it, the burglars most certainly did.
Yes, it is a sad indictment on society that not even a pot plant or transitional musical odyssey is safe. It’s not the object that matters, just the need to stuff your pockets with whatever you can. It’s like going shopping with Winona Ryder.
But thankfully good neighbourliness isn’t entirely lost. In fact, the other night the kids next door came over to tell me I’d left the headlights on.
Still, I thought, they could’ve just turned them off without bothering me.
After all, the car was open.
In my defence, say it was a test that I set for society – and society failed”