The dangers of living in the woods

I don't really know why I am admitting this, much less making it a permanent part of my family's history by documenting it here, but it just seemed so blog worthy that I had to mention it. As a lot of you know, I am absent-minded. I often lose my keys, my phone, even my purse, and have to frantically retrace my steps to locate missplaced items. I think something went terribly wrong somewhere in my hard-wiring; I don't know if it can be fixed. Anyway, last Friday I came home with the groceries and hurriedly carried them, and the girls, into the house to fix dinner. Jonathan was already home when I got in the door so he never noticed my indiscretion. Apparently I had left the keys in the ignition, AND left the door open to the car...and they remained that way all through the night until they were discovered the next morning. While many of you in suburbia would have to worry about thieves absconding your vehicle, that was not the danger we were susceptible to. We live on three acres, and our driveway winds up and around a small hill. It is easy to miss our house unless you are paying close attention to the addresses and watching for the only sign of life: our delapidated mailbox that has seen more than one collision with a wayward driver. No, we did not have thieves...we had raccoons. They left their tracks all over the car, peed in the backseat, and ate an entire unopened bag of sunflower seeds, leaving a pile of shells neatly stacked beside the car. They punctured the water bottle and siphoned off the liquid, and made off with any other food related items they could find. Unfortunately, Jonathan cleaned all this up before reprimanding me and telling me of the incident, so I have no pictures...but it does make for a good story, doesn't it? I'm not sure exactly what the moral of the story is here...maybe you can help me?