Don't Tell A Soul

My husband told me that so many houses are robbed out during the summer holidays because those people just talk too much about their going away. I agree with him completely. To tell someone you are leaving your house vacant for two weeks is like printing invitation cards for all those burglars.

Just as I told my husband I kept silent about our holiday. With one exception, the neighbor whom I told to water our plants and to pull the roller blinds up and down. And I'm not so stupid to let the newspapers pile in front of our door, so I advised the paper boy not to deliver any newspapers those two weeks. You just have to imagine: the more people know you are leaving the bigger is the chance you get robbed.

Just as I told the woman in the veterinarian's waiting room, where I booked a place for our dog: "You have to make sure your house still has the appearance of being occupied while you're not there". She told me that uncut grass is another sign of absence. If she hadn't told me that I wouldn't have searched the blackboard in the supermarket for an advertisement of a boy to mow our lawn.

When I told the postman that we're going away so he should hold back the mail he said: "You can trust nobody with such a secret." He recommended to tell his nephew to get our second car out of the garage from time to time and park it in front of our house. His nephew agreed and said, if he hadn't the time to do it he would ask another of the guys in the gas station.

When I came home, my husband asked me: "And, tell me, how many people have you told of our holiday?" I answered that I have told it to nobody, just as he had recommended, perhaps with the exception of the lady in the travel agency when I fetched our tickets and of course at the drycleaners, when the woman there wondered about the amount of clothes I had to wash.

Perhaps I told it to the shop assistant where I bought my new bag, otherwise I remained silent. Surely I had to tell it the people in the beauty parlor where I go regularly. I can't leave them just like that.
That would be silly. We're all grown up. And I gave the door key to the heating engineer who had to clean our heating system. But that one never talks much.

My husband took a deep breath and silently asked me: "Now just count it up, how many people have you told that we're going on holiday?"

"Oh, about twenty-five to thirty, apart from the nice lady in the bank where I fetched our traveler's cheques, the women at the fitness club and the tennis club," I replied, "but I never told them where we're going!"