Gated Community

Sometimes my wife doesn't lock the windows in our trailer house - not often, but sometimes.  We've lived in some big cities and we've lived downtown in a few of these big cities so, as a general rule, we're pretty good at keeping an eye on our shit; not paranoid about it but warily vigilant.  People tending toward mayhem look for easy targets.  Today we live in this tightly packed trailer park where the management closes a fence at night - prompting one of my smart-ass Program buddies to quip that I live in a "gated community," my retort being that it's really there to keep the residents from getting disoriented and wandering onto the freeway at night - and it's a community where we all kind of look out for each other so there's not much chance of anything sinister happening.

That has not stopped me from mentioning this to SuperK.  I like to make mountains out of molehills.  She has mostly complied and that's more than I would do for one of her requests, I'm sorry to say.  The other day I came home from swimming and she walked around the corner exclaiming: "Where have you been?"

"At the pool," I said, a bit confused.

She pointed at the front door which was standing wide open.  Not unlocked.  Not ajar.  Completely, totally wide open.  I had been gone for 3 or 4 hours.

I have not revisited the whole lock-the-window thing.