Health

/

ArcaMax

Lori Borgman: Fort Knox has nothing on us

Lori Borgman, Tribune News Service on

Published in Lifestyles

I am married to Mr. Security. We have an entire plastic tub full of timers. The lights in our house never burn brighter than when we are not home.

I typically spend the day before we go out of town packing. He spends the day setting up timers and reminding me what lights I can and can’t turn on.

The lamp in the family room is off limits. It will go off at 3 a.m. when the light by the piano will come on.

When all the lights in the house have been set on timers, I often resort to a flashlight. If I need to work in the kitchen, I open the refrigerator door to see what I am doing.

It’s not hard to dress in the dark—it’s putting on makeup that’s tough. The challenge is getting an equal amount of concealer under both eyes. When home security is in place, I often look like a one-eyed raccoon.

The light on a cell phone is not as helpful as you might think. You can’t really trust it to distinguish black from navy. Home security puts me at fashion risk.

We have a motion-activated light on the driveway that works year-round. It floods the driveway with penitentiary-grade lighting every morning at 4 a.m. Cue the guard dogs—the carrier just delivered the newspapers. The poor guy. We tip big at Christmas.

It’s not like Mr. Security works alone. I place a stop on the papers. That’s right, plural. We get the local paper and the Wall Street Journal. Two different companies, two different stops.

 

I also place a stop on the mail. There’s nothing like returning home after a few days away and having the mail carrier back up to the house and dump a half-ton of junk mail in the driveway.

I have suggested that if we really want to make it look like we are home, we should leave some of the grands’ ride toys in the front yard and empty juice boxes scattered on the sidewalk.

Mr. Security said that could attract undue attention. As if the entire house flashing like a rock concert won’t attract attention.

My final job is to activate neighborhood watch — our neighbor Linda. I text Linda that we will be gone for a few days. She texts back that she thought so because she saw the lights flashing on and off last night.

We are 150 miles out of town when a text arrives saying a package will be delivered tomorrow.

It is from Shutterfly, the company that packages everything in bright orange boxes. So much for going unnoticed.

Thanks goodness for Linda.


©2024 Tribune Content Agency, LLC

 

Comments

blog comments powered by Disqus

 

Related Channels

Ask Amy

Ask Amy

By Amy Dickinson
Asking Eric

Asking Eric

By R. Eric Thomas
Billy Graham

Billy Graham

By Billy Graham
Chuck Norris

Chuck Norris

By Chuck Norris
Dear Abby

Dear Abby

By Abigail Van Buren
Dear Annie

Dear Annie

By Annie Lane
Dr. Michael Roizen

Dr. Michael Roizen

By Dr. Michael Roizen
God Squad

God Squad

By Rabbi Marc Gellman
Keith Roach

Keith Roach

By Keith Roach, M.D.
Miss Manners

Miss Manners

By Judith Martin, Nicholas Ivor Martin and Jacobina Martin
My So-Called Millienial Life

My So-Called Millienial Life

By Cassie McClure
Positive Aging

Positive Aging

By Marilyn Murray Willison
Scott LaFee

Scott LaFee

By Scott LaFee
Sense & Sensitivity

Sense & Sensitivity

By Harriette Cole
Single File

Single File

By Susan Dietz
Social Security and You

Social Security and You

By Tom Margenau
Toni Says

Toni Says

By Toni King

Comics

Free Range Rose is Rose Brilliant Mind of Edison Lee Drew Sheneman Barney Google And Snuffy Smith Al Goodwyn