Dear Mr. Porch Pirate ...

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Dear Mister Porch Pirate,

You don’t know me, even though you certainly acted like it at 4:15 a.m. this morning when you materialized from the bushes and slunk up my driveway, all the way to the front porch. Dressed all in black with only a sliver of your ghostly, moonlit face framed behind a sweatshirt hoodie, your weaselly eyes shining like radium torches in the light of my Ring camera as you bent down to grab my Amazon package.

Peekaboo, I see you!

Thank you for looking straight into the camera and allowing me to take a few screenshots of your sneaky mug, cinched so tightly in the hoodie, it resembled a Tyrannosaurus Rex's anus. Just so you know, even if you rip it from the wall, the video and images are still captured on my app, Dumb-Dumb. But instead of sharing them with the local police precinct as I've done in the past—not that it means much these days with the sheer amount of midnight scoundrels like you clogging up the system—I've decided to take an alternative approach this time.

I forgive you. I want you to have the package.

Having said that, let's talk about the medium-sized, brown cardboard box, wrapped in blue shipping tape with the Amazon logo and an address label with my name on it. That’s right, my name, Mr. Porch Pirate, not yours. My package. I guess you can say it’s my own fault for not bringing it inside late last night around 10 p.m. when the delivery man threw it onto my front steps from about ten feet away … as if walking up those final four steps would have killed him. Tsk-tsk ... My bad! You see, my excuse is that I was already in my PJs, upstairs in my bed with a cup of tea, watching the finale of Succession. Riveting, riveting stuff. You should watch it, too, when you're done stealing for the night. Perhaps on the flatscreen TV you liberated from some other hapless fool's garage on another midnight "outing?" I highly recommend it; it will teach you something about integrity and honor. Uh, wait ... scratch that. Wrong show.

Anyway, I digress ... (that means I'm temporarily straying from the main topic, Mr. Porch Pirate.)

Back to your little visit to my front door during the bewitching hours of this morning. You didn’t stay long—uninvited strangers never do, I guess—but at least you made an effort to say hi by peering into my home, pressing your face against one of the side-light windowpanes flanking the door, and leaving a greasy cheek print for me to clean. What would your Mama say about that, Mr. Porch Pirate? Manners, manners, manners. Tsk-tsk.

Anyhow, I saw you wiggle the door handle a few times and mutter a few unintelligible (drug-induced, I suspect) curse words at the camera. But it’s a good thing you didn’t try to come inside. For one, I have a large husky mix who is trained to greet you excitedly, at first, with nonchalant kisses and friendly butt sniffs. But that is just how he has been trained to lull home invaders in the middle of the night. In truth, he is a killing machine, trained to rip out the throat of any poor soul who dares to be fooled by the sloppy kisses.

Oh, and he sleeps by my feet at night.

My husband would have slept through your attempted break-in; nothing wakes my sweet man in the middle of the night; not a stranger rummaging through his house, not an earthquake shaking the foundations, not even if a painting dropped from the wall over the bed, onto his wife. As for me? I’m menopausal, you see, so my nights are spent wide awake, fanning myself in a glisten of night sweats, googling hair-thickening vitamins to ship to the house (I'll alert you when that's supposed to deliver), typing (and deleting) heated comments on political social media posts, and overthinking the day’s happenings ... on auto loop. You don't want to mess with an angry menopausal bitch in the middle of the night, Mr. Porch Pirate. Trust me! That much is gospel.

As for the package you took ... I want you to keep it; my gift to you.

Here’s what was inside (but you probably know that already, lol):

1. One XL tube of estrogen cream for the treatment of Menopausal symptoms

2. A bright pink canister of pepper spray

3. A set of 6 sonic yard stakes (large) for lawn-gopher deterring

Now, you don’t strike me as the type to read or follow instructions and fine print on labels. If you did, you would have read the large plaque we have on our lawn that reads: "PRIVATE PROPERTY: Do not trespass!" Right? Right. So, instead, in the spirit of forgiveness, allow me to explain the directions of use for the products you "found" in my Amazon package. I’ve always been a “waste-not” kind of person, so you might as well benefit. Here goes, Mr Porch Pirate:

• The Estrogen cream:

1. Apply liberally to your genital area, thirteen times daily. (I know it says “3 times daily” on the label, but that is a misprint. Trust me!)

2. Keep it up until it runs dry … the tube and you.

3. Don't worry when you start losing facial and body hair or start gaining a bit of weight. It’s temporary. So is the heightened voice pitch.

4. Just keep applying the cream. Liberally. It will eventually soften your ice-cold criminal heart a little, I hope. Don’t be surprised if you start crying during pet commercials or suddenly can’t remember where you put your glasses (hint: look in the fridge!). You might even find that the estrogen cream helps you with the hot flushes you must experience while lurking about in that thick, hooded sweatshirt and gloves.

5. You're welcome!

• The Pepper spray canister:

Now I know, assuming you can read, it says “Capsaicin self-defense pepper spray” on the vacuum-sealed packaging of this bright pink cartridge, but I promise you, it is just a harmless novelty/gag item. I bought it as a funny Father’s Day gift for my husband. In reality, the canister contains an expensive, imported French pheromone deodorant, meant to aid sexual arousal and attract females with its intoxicating scent. Trust me! Now, you’ll be the lucky guy to benefit from random women flinging themselves at you on the street, assuming you follow the instructions:

1. Cut the canister free from the theft-proof packaging (ripping open, slicing, and prying should all be second nature to you, by now, no?)

2. Lift the cap on the canister and position your thumb on the trigger--uh, I mean, deodorant spray button.

3. Rotate the nozzle towards your face and open your eyes and mouth as wide as you can for maximum effect.

4. Depress (that means "push," Mr. Porch Pirate) the trigger as hard as you can with your thumb. (See image below).

5. Keep spraying at your face for at least 5 seconds while inhaling deeply.

6. Enjoy!

And, finally ...

• The Gopher-deterrent yard stakes:

Last, but not least. My husband ordered these for the backyard, for those infuriatingly evasive underground-Ewok-whack-a-moles popping up and ruining his lawn. Each one is a 12-inch-long by 3-inch-thick plastic stake with a solar receptacle on top and an impressively sharp, four-way ribbed spike at the bottom ... for easy, extra-deep dirt penetration. As for directions of use, Mr. Porch Pirate?

1. Shove them where the sun don't shine.

2. Trust me!

THE END