Crime & Marriage

Despite living in bucolic Maine where residents boast they don't even have keys to their houses, I sleep better at night with my doors locked. It's an old habit I developed years ago living in Washington, D.C., where, according to NeighborhoodScout.com, "the violent crime rate is one of the highest in the nation, across communities of all sizes, both large and small. Violent offenses tracked included rape, murder and non-negligent manslaughter, armed robbery, and aggravated assault, including assault with a deadly weapon." Knowing all that then, I barely slept a wink on the nights my husband was away.

Life is so much more relaxed here in Maine, where crime is minimal. Still, being an incorrigible nervous wreck due to several unfortunate and scarring incidents during childhood, I go the extra mile and spend perhaps fifteen or twenty seconds locking the doors at bedtime. It's really quite simple --  just a twist of the wrist and I'm off to dreamland. 

This nightly habit of mine bugs the hell out of my husband. Still, he lets me do it, although he does not participate in the activity himself. When I go to bed before him, it's not unusual to wake up the following morning with several of the exterior doors (there are five including the garage) unlocked, and on more than one occasion, ajar. Yes, you read that right, ajar, as in anyone could just walk right in and kill us in our beds, rob us blind, or simply fix themselves a snack and be on their way. 

Naturally I have concluded that I am far safer when my husband is out of town than when he is at home. I believe this to be a sad, unspoken fact of many marriages.