Burgled

“I’m getting tired of being burgled.”

“Again?”

“AGAIN! Ten days away and I came home to find a muddy footprint in the hall. Looked around the corner and the drawers were all pulled out and contents strewn all over the floor.”

“NO! How did they get in?”

“Levered the glass sliding door with a screwdriver, it shattered and they unlocked it from there. Like they did with the car last year.”

“Anything taken?”

“A fair amount of cash left on the table I intended to bank on return, and…”

“And…?”

“Some gold bars.”

“Big?”

“Not so small so as to just dismiss them. And then four hours with the police dusting and photographing and questioning and writing reports. And the final indignity at the end. They fingerprinted me. All my fingers! And TOES too.!”