Safety in Suburbia

About once a year, we get a notice taped to our door.  For some reason, though I swear I have no reason to feel guilty, I always think it's an eviction, foreclosure, or notice of some kind of violation.  No.  It is this:

It is an offer, for a nominal fee,  to paint our house numbers on the curb with reasons why this is so important.  Apparently, the numbers on the house are not sufficient for the police or emergency personnel to find it, and they are delayed by having to use a searchlight.  I suppose that with the delay, by the time they reach you, you'll have given birth on your bathroom floor, your older children will have witnessed it, they will be traumatized and screaming while your husband is passed out and you're wondering when the devil are they going to get here?  Or, it's an intruder and the intruder has decided to let me live long enough to alert 911 and calmly give directions.  Alas, all that effort will have been wasted because they could not find my house.  Any number of potentially deadly and disastrous situations could be circumvented by paying to have my house numbers painted on my curb.

Here's my problem with this offer to increase my safety: The first time it was offered, it cost $25.  Now, it costs $10.  Is my safety cheaper to secure now?  Or is the paint cheaper, and hence, just another empty promise because the police are still going to use a searchlight to try and find me?  I have a neighbor who is very willing to come over to help me in the case of an intruder, and odds are, he'll get here before the police.  That is, provided I have the frame of mind to call anyone at all.  If I really did have the chance to call someone, it would be the coroner at that point anyway, and why should they rush?  I'd be better off calling a lawyer, and I've never known a lawyer to rush anywhere unless your name is O.J.

The only other reason I can think my house would need to be located quickly is in the case of fire.  I'm thinking if that were to happen, they'll easily locate my house by the flames billowing out the windows, me screaming like a lunatic in the yard, all my neighbors standing outside pointing and wondering "Why does her husband keep letting her buy candles?", and my kids thinking this is the best way ever to make s'mores.  Either way, I'd still need to call a lawyer.

I think I'll pass on this offer for now.  But maybe next year...