Yeah so we were burgled last night...

I have just had to lock the front door. Usually we just shut it and it locks but from now on we have to turn the key in the lock about 15 times so that the bolts running all the way up the side of the door are locked into place. And then we have to bolt the newly fitted latch at the top of the door so that even if you have the key on the other side of the door, you can't get in. It's our new family security policy. Why? Because last night we were robbed.

It happened at about 2:00 in the morning while the family were in bed. A group of people (male/female, young/old, working class/aristocrats - we just don't know) snuck in through the front door and made off with the laptop, Mum's handbag, Dad's phone and cornet, a bunch of registers for Mums & Tots and all the house and car keys that we keep on the shoe rack by our front door. They then drove off in the car as Dad got out of bed and reached the front door and Lisa looked out of her window to see them speeding away.

Fortunately, it really is no big deal. Everything was insured and is therefore reclaimable, we've had the locksmith round who has fitted a new lock along with the aforementioned extra security latch so they're not getting back in, and nothing was broken or damaged and no one got hurt. All things considered, we are incredibly lucky.

So why do I feel so down about the whole thing?

I'll tell you why.

Because I missed it.

The whole family was up. We had police round twice (once to take a statement and a second time for finger prints). There was noise, drama and excitement. And I slept through the whole flippin' ordeal. Apparently, Daniel snuck into my room a couple of times and "psst"ed at me but got no reaction. Dad came in to check I was alright but got no more from me than "Alright, ok, I know, I'm up, I'm up, I'll do it" (I don't remember this but when I imagine it in my head, I sound like Napoleon Dynamite). Everyone finally got to bed at about 6ish but I was completely out of it for the whole thing. I came whistling down the stairs this morning to be updated by Mum. And it really bugged me. It's like when you're a kid and you wake up after a sleep-over and your friends are telling you all the stories about all the really funny stuff that happened after you drifted off ("oh it was so cool - Malcolm totally covered himself in toothpaste and went running down the street singing the theme to Beverly Hills Cop. We tried to wake you but then Gareth thought it would be funny to draw boobs on your forehead instead").

So here's a warning to any potential future wife. If you're after a dashingly handsome young fellow with piercing blue eyes and a beautiful singing voice, then I'm the guy for you. If, on the other hand, you would rather have a man who will protect you and your children from dangerous attackers and keep his family safe from harm...well I'm afraid I'll be asleep.