Our house got broken into this weekend.
It was Friday night, the hubs and I had just finished eating dinner and I was already in my Oiselle sweats and was looking forward to an evening in. Then we remembered that we had to run an errand in St. Paul. We kicked around the idea of going Saturday morning, but eventually decided just to run out quick and get it over with. We packed up the dog and got into the car. As we walked up to our front gate when we returned (no longer than 40 minutes later) we noticed it was unlatched. I commented that I thought I had closed it on our way out, but didn’t think too much of it. Then, as we walked up our walkway to the front door, we noticed that the back gate was also open and the screen from our south side window was on the ground. Instincts kicked in and I grabbed my dog and headed back out to the street, away from the house. J called 911 and waited by the open window, in case whoever had broken in was still in the house. My heart was pounding and I tried calling my neighbor but he wasn’t home. Then, literally four minutes later, I heard sirens. The sirens got louder as they approached, but then they stopped and the cops pulled up to our house, lights off. I let them know that the guy standing by the house was my husband (not someone they should shoot) and they drew their Glocks and some major-powered flashlights and started sweeping the house.
Once we knew the house was clear, we spent the next ten or so minutes answering questions for the cops and identifying what was missing — Playstation 3 (with Grand Theft Auto V inside of it, sad face), my MacBook, my Droid Razr HD and our Wii. While answering these questions, we were also frantically looking for our cat, Sam. We finally found her, hiding in the basement, but were so worried that something had happened to her. The cops noticed that there were some visible fingerprints on our two TVs that whoever broke in had (very obviously) tried to take. But just as the cops were radioing for the crime lab to come, they got called away for a shooting that had just taken place — just a little over a mile away. (PS – our neighborhood is actually much safer than I’m making it seem.)
I don’t think I slept that night (but on the positive side, I got to see the end of the Cardinals/Dodgers 13-inning game) and we spent the rest of the weekend installing window locks and alarms and reading the “Security for Dummies” book that our realtor gave us when we moved into our house. It’s a total “you-never-think-it’s-going-to-happen-to-you” kind of thing. It’s also the type of thing that puts life into perspective: J and I had been crabby with each other earlier in the evening, but whatever stupid, petty thing we argued about didn’t matter anymore.
I was texting with a friend about what had happened and I ended the conversation by saying that this was “just a little setback.” And you know what? I believe that. I keep thinking about just how lucky we were — things could have been so much worse. When I put something on FB about this, it was alarming (and so sad) how many other people have been through similar situations. We, or our pets, could have been hurt. We could have been home (which would have def upped the tramuatizing factor). They could have taken everything. They could have done damage to our property — and so on.
With that said, I’m still incredibly freaked out and a little on edge, even a few days later. I can’t help but keep thinking about how they were likely watching our house, how they have probably seen my photos on my computer, how they were in our home, how they could still be watching our house. And then you start thinking about the “what ifs” and what you could/should have been doing differently. But I’m trying not to dwell on that stuff.
Anyways, I hope you all had a good weekend. Did you see my goals for this fall/winter? I want to hear your goals! Or in keeping with the theme of this post, any tips for home security?