It felt good to put a finger up at the lowlifes who ran through our house on Sunday afternoon, stealing whatever they could carry as we sat by the pool in blissful ignorance while Issy enjoyed a siesta in her room.
The dogs, who bark at EVERYTHING, did not make a sound for perhaps the first time in their lives. Oscar is excused as he was with us by the pool and heard nothing while Tallulah (okay, she is getting old and can't see so well) hid in a bush terrified as the scumbags legged it over the gate, snuck down the drive and into the house.
Once I called the gendarmes, naturellement the dogs went ballistic and more than made up for their poor show, barking and running furious circles around them.
More than anything, it's the inconvenience and time it takes to ring or email to cancel everything and reorder, renew and explain what has happened. Now we're all in paranoid stage as doors have to be locked during the day despite the fact that it's 30 degrees outside.
Usually I am a cup half full, if not completely full, but today I have to admit I had a wobble and a cry to my mum in London and felt unusually vulnerable and yes, I hate to admit it, quite down. And then I thought no, this is not going to get me. They are not going to win.
Funnily enough, of all the things that were stolen, what upset me most was the thought that the card I had ordered for Issy from Moonpig, painstakingly designed in photo upload by me (and we all know how technically minded I am) had been stolen. So when I found it on my desk cleverly filed under a sprawling pile of bills this afternoon, I was ecstatic. A small victory. Unfortunately for Handyman, his dog eared photo of the girls on the beach in Devon that has been in his wallet for the past 13 years did not make it. Ditto the beautiful Tiffany pen that they saved their pocket money up to buy for me last birthday to replace the one I had stolen in London as they knew how much it meant to me.
So what do you do in this situation? Luckily no one was hurt although the girls are sleeping in the same room right now and Handyman has a meat cleaver tucked under the bed. We are insured so it's not the end of the world. I'm all for a good cry, moving house and running down the culprits and making sure they never walk again (that might be the Lafitte talking).
Instead, after finishing the boring stuff and making an appointment in Marseille for Emergency Travel Documents in the absence of a passport (I've never been to Marseille so thanks guys), I went for a swim, bought some delicious food and we spent the evening on the terrace eating, drinking and laughing at the fact that our nutcase paranoid dogs, who attack every friend, poste person and UPS delivery driver, were too wussy to make a whimper when it came right down to it.
Laughter is the only way. Meanwhile, as summer arrives, make sure you lock your doors, be vigilant, don't be complacent and make sure you have a blunt heavy object at a handy distance.
