A few minutes later, the wife shook him again.
“Honey… I heard footsteps!”
The husband groaned, grabbed a baseball bat, and stumbled downstairs in his boxers.
He checked the kitchen.
The living room.
The garage.
Every closet.
Nothing.
Finally he returned upstairs and collapsed into bed.
“Nobody’s there,” he sighed.
The wife looked relieved.
For about thirty seconds.
Then…
CRASH!
A loud noise echoed from downstairs.
The husband sat straight up.
The wife grabbed his arm.
“SEE?!”
Now fully awake, he stormed downstairs again.
This time he found the back door wide open.
A chair knocked over.
And muddy footprints leading through the kitchen.
His heart started pounding.
Someone really had been there.
He immediately called the police.
Ten minutes later, two officers arrived and searched the entire house.
No burglar.
No stolen electronics.
No missing jewelry.
Nothing.
One officer shrugged.
“Probably someone looking for an easy target. They got scared and left.”
The husband nodded.
The police left.
Everyone went back to bed.
The next morning, the husband walked downstairs and froze.
The kitchen table was covered with food.
Freshly cooked food.
Eggs.
Toast.
Pancakes.
Coffee.
His wife stared in disbelief.
“What on earth?”
Then they noticed a handwritten note sitting beside the coffee pot.
The husband picked it up and read aloud:
Thank you for leaving the back door unlocked.
Your refrigerator is terrible.
You need more vegetables.
Also, your smoke detector battery is dying.
Sincerely,
The Burglar.
The husband and wife looked at each other.
Completely speechless.
Then the husband flipped the note over.
There was more.
P.S. Your wife was right.
I WAS downstairs.
The wife crossed her arms and smiled.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
Then she looked at her husband and said:
“Next time I say there’s a burglar in the house…”
The husband sighed.
“I’ll believe you.”
Then she pointed at the pancakes.
“And next time, maybe let him finish breakfast before calling the police.” 😄
