The long arm of the law has caught up with me. On John's door is a new poster. A "WANTED" poster. On it are three smiling people with angry eyebrows. A lovely woman with long eyelashes. A man with a mustache. A small child. All three are holding money bags.
The three are labeled "Mom. Dad. Maia." Big arrows point them out.
This evening John told me he wanted a sheriff outfit for Christmas. "With a helmet! And gloves! And a notebook! And handcuffs! And a vest! And a pen! And..."
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, trying to remember that one last thing that all good sheriffs carry.
"Yes?" I asked.
He snapped his fingers and jumped at the same time. "Sunglasses!" he yelped. "A pair of sunglasses."