Oh my God, the Police are here and your bra is hanging off your bedroom doorknob! That was what my mother had to say last week when I was robbed for the third time. I tied the bra there to stop my bedroom door banging.

Her comment seemed a little ridiculous considering every other bra I owned, plus all my underpants, had been tossed on the floor. The robbers had even found the sexy pair I never pull out anymore because I live in a tiny house with a child who is a light sleeper in a bedroom with a door that doesn’t close properly! I’d like to say the rest of the house was pristine, but it wasn’t. The Police went into my daughter’s room and said: “Looks like they might have struck here, too.”

My daughter’s room looked like a Barbie shoe bomb had exploded, with tiny heels, boots and sneakers scattered over every available surface. There were also clothes, books and toys tossed about, plus an ankle-deep layer of Lego.

“No, it pretty much looks like this all the time,” I said. It would have taken a lot of effort for the robbers to ransack that room. It turns out, if you have anything of value that you want to hide, put it in your child’s room and stop telling them to clean things up.

Not that I had much to hide. Despite the huge mess, my only loss was a single gold necklace that was a Christmas present. After being cleaned out several times already, I don’t have much left. I did have a few silver necklaces with stones, but the thieves left those behind. I’m never buying anything gold again.

As the police looked room to room, I started to feel embarrassed that I’d had so little to steal. Apparently, there isn’t much of a black market for grandmother’s Royal Dalton figurines and scrapbooking supplies. “Check your liquor cabinet,” the Police officer said. “Sometimes they steal that.”

Face burning, I had to admit that I didn’t even have liquor for people to steal.

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