I let Anna bike alone to the library yesterday. She returned a few hours later with the exciting news that a strange man in a red pick-up truck had stopped and asked her if she were from Czechoslovakia (I spelled that right the first try, thanks).
Me [mentally clutching heart]: And you kept biking, right?
Her: And I said I wasn't from Czechoslovakia...
Me: And then you biked away!
Her: No-o-o-o. And then he said, "Well, you look very pretty anyway." Isn't that neat?
Me: And? And?
Her: Then he got back in his truck and drove away.
Her: He was very nice!
Yes, most serial killers are, aren't they?
And no, she's not biking alone again. Ever.