As you know, I’m not exactly immune to irrational fears. I’m a self-diagnosed hypochondriac after all.

As a kid, a reoccurring nightmare fueled my intense phobia of getting kidnapped. One day, I told my friend and next-door neighbor, Kelsey, about this fear. Her response? She wasn’t worried because her home’s security system would deter the would-be kidnappers, meaning they’d likely venture next door to my unprotected home.

Yikes!

My anxiety kicked into high gear. Yes, living on the quiet, back-most street of the neighborhood would make for a slower getaway, but it also meant fewer people would see the crime in question take place. A corner lot meant someone could more easily determine the house’s layout – as well as who lived there. Three children under age nine? This was clearly a kidnapper’s dream. Three doors, two sunlight windows and 19 windows on the first floor alone meant our house was prime real estate for a break-in. Additionally, the shaded yard with trees and shrubbery (a true flashlight tagger’s paradise) offered plenty of hiding spots for the sneaky. Also, because of the warm spring weather, those who were determined would likely feel comfortable hiding for as long as necessary. Not to mention, Lacy wasn’t exactly a fierce watchdog.

Following several attentive bike rides, I found that the majority of households on my block had signage marking a protected home. The notion of “majority rules” meant home security must be a wise investment. This also meant that the pool of targetable homes was small, increasing the odds that us Halle’s would attract roaming criminals. And so, I began begging mom and dad for a security system. Yes, I was a total PITA.

My pleas were met with countless no’s before they relented.

Well, almost… Not to be outwitted, dad had a plan to appease his desperate yet gullible daughter. We ventured to Costco to “get a security system.” He successfully convinced me that the new, digital carbon monoxide detector was a security system. The “0” on the reading screen indicated that zero bad guys were detected within a 100-mile radius.

Each night, like clockwork, “Dad, what’s the reading?” echoed throughout the house. Jon: 1 – Sam: 0.