grandchildrens' mysterious powers and a burgling puzzle

I was just putting on my shoes, about to leave my parent's house after a Sunday lunch, and I saw my little nephew, Marcus, run giggling past a doorway, followed not long after by my dad, making monster noises with a cushion balanced on his head.

I was suddenly reminded me of the scene in The Godfather when Vito Corleone chases his little grandson through the tomato patch - not because of what happened after, but because here before my eyes this stern patriarch was transformed into putty - a plaything at the mercy of a mischievous two-year-old. This perfect moment was rendered and sealed so exquisitely in a movie older than I am - and I can't explain why this makes me so... full of wonderment. Is that the word? I don't know, but it's the best one I can think of right now. I think it reminds me again of why I'm so in love with the movies, and more importantly, why I want to make them. Cinema is life distilled and preserved onto celluloid. It picks out all its meanings with its highs and lows and complexities, and gifts all the best parts to anyone watching it.

And here comes the obligatory 'excuse my sentimentality' comment - only that I don't really feel like apologising for being dewy-eyed this time. So there.

... so ...

this is completely unrelated, but on my mind, so:

Here's a conundrum that I'd welcome opinions on: when we got burgled the other week, the thieves took a big fat drawer of about 100 spare miscellaneous cables, at least 10kg, including 4-5 heavy old transformers that correspond to appliances or hardware that we can't remember having, but still can't bear to chuck the power sources for. They didn't take any boxed CDs or DVDs, but they did take these cables, and no matter how I think about it, it's a mystery.

Explanations offered have been along the lines of:
1) they took a video camera, and decided to empty out the cables just in case they were needed for the camera.
I don't buy this because the camera bag itself had a power cable and batteries in it. Besides, if they were so keen to get all the possible cables for the camera, why didn't they rip the cords from the adjacent computer? And why did they leave the clearly labelled Sony battery charger which was just lying there on the floor for all would-be burglars to see?
2) they had a warehouse full of other stolen hi-fi that needed cables to work.
If they were that organised, how come they left all our hi-fi and DVD players untouched? And if you did steal these things, why wouldn't you grab and RCAs and antennae cables and power cables that were connected to the things anyway? Either way, it still doesn't make any sense.

I wonder if this will ever be solved. I'm almost hoping that when/if these guys get done, they'll have to undergo some 12-step rehabilitation programme where they have to confront their 'victims', just so I can sort this weirdness out.

Breakfast:
Congee with leftovers.
Verdict:
Don't mean to divulge too much, but this is the best thing for sore, sensitive intestines.