Break-In!

Tiffany loves Jimmy Buffet. She can't help it. She was raised that way.

She loves Buffett so much that she loves me a little less because I only just enjoy Buffett, mostly when the mood is right, the air is warm and all the windows in our car are down. When we lived in Los Angeles, we went to a Buffet concert, and Tiffany was ashamed of me because I didn't know all the words to Margaritaville ("nibblin on sponge cake?" I had no idea. Does sponge cake actually go with margaritas?).

At the first wedding I went to in Tiffany's family, a special request was made for a Buffett song, and, when it came on, her entire side of the guest list formed a circle and sang along while the Other Family's guests stared in something like horror.

Anyway, speaking of all the windows in our car, last weekend someone smashed one of them and broke in. He or she rooted around in our glove box and console and stole an iPod charger and the change collection in our ash tray.

Noticeably not stolen: Tiffany's collection of Jimmy Buffett CDs and my Aleve.

(In case the police are looking for leads, our thief does not suffer from menstrual cramps or Parrotheadedness.)

Tiffany was not insulted by the criminal's lack of respect for her taste in music. Instead, as I was investigating the rest of the car for damage, she shrieked with joy:

"Thank God! They didn't take Buffett!"