No burglars

Now, of course, I'm worried about the burglars. We've definitely got some. Pastry's things got nicked last Christmas when she left them outside, overnight, in her self-hire removals van. The local dodger had probably watched her load it all up and then waited until dark before making off with the lot, including the presents she'd got for her kids.

The only time we've had any burglary, attempted, was some years ago, when some juvenile tried to get in at the garden room. There's a tiny window, open, and a lodger snoring underneath, only junior dodger didn't know that when he tried to put his leg through. The lodger woke up with a start, the leg disappeared and that was that. I don't know whether to count the visitor who came in the lobby and smashed it up a few weeks ago. I think he was drunk, not intentional.

The way I've usually tried to knock Burglar Bill unconscious, should he call, is to leave the kids to prepare the ground. Shark's toys will be all over the floor: the lego bricks alone can be lethal. If he gets past those, he'll find Tiger's put small food traps around the house which will have either brought out the rats or will send him sliding across the room when he stands on a raspberry jam bap. He'll try and get out then, only to find that Squirrel's removed the door handles for safe keeping.

It could, of course, be the state of us that puts off any self-respecting burglar. Apart from the fact that we have nothing to nick. Most of the furniture's come from the tip. The TV is hardly state of the art, bought in 1989 and the dvd's broke. I get the stereo systems from Tesco.

We're not exactly the clean sort, either, partly because doing the cleaning lulls me into a coma, and partly because there's no time, even if I had the inclination. Take the car, for example. Basically, it's a skip on wheels. Last year we parked just behind the Albert Hall in Central London and left one of the sliding doors open by accident. It was there for four hours, one sliding door slid back, and nothing got nicked or touched. Shark's pasta was still all over the floor. Tiger's sick bucket still in the back, and Squirrel's horde of empty juice drink cartons still squished all around the back seats, along with the blackened and dried banana skins and orange peel. The fact that I'd left the Tom Tom system in the glove compartment shows me that it's all about presentation.

Well, thanks to the state of us, and the fact there's sod all to nick, I don't anticipate any Burglar Bill while we're out in Kent. But, just in case, Shark's left her painting things all over the floor, Tiger's burying some cereal behind the TV screen and Squirrel's taken off the door handle. And Burglar Bill's probably thinking it's just not worth it.