OK, I have to share my story. When my husband and I were living in our first home (like 22,23), our house was broken into. We had a sofa and recliner in our living room and I want to say it was Halloween or Christmas and we had a bag of snack size Snickers in the living room on a table next to my recliner. My husband opens his bags of candy very specifically -- he tears off a corner just big enough to get one piece at a time out of the bag. So one night he gets home from work, goes to take a piece of candy, and the bag is torn completely open. I was pregnant with our first child at the time and he made a joke about me ripping the bag. I hadn't. We got to looking and the window in our bathroom had been pryed open and someone had obviously climbed through it. So while we were at work that day, someone climbed in our bathroom window, sat in the recliner and ate our candy. If he wasn't so specific about his bags, we never would have even looked at the window. After that, we started using the janky alarm that the landlord had installed and got a dog. It was a long time before I felt comfortable being home alone and at the time, my husband was working retail and gone until 9-10 at night. It was almost worse because they didn't take anything. We were poor and there was probably very little to take, but the thought of someone just sitting in our house when we weren't there...
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