Sophia reported fearfully that Freya had disappeared from her bed at naptime and that she was nowhere to be found. She was not in her bedroom, not in any of our beds, nor anywhere else in the house. A soft scritch-scratch sound emitted from the bedroom closet. I caught a glimpse of little fingers flitting from inside her closet door. Sophia and I exchanged bewildered glances. I slid open the door slowly to reveal the horrible truth of what I knew must lay therein. "Oh, no," I said. Sophia gasped heavily, then screamed, "Noooo! My candy! Freya! How could you!" Freya sat staring back at us, remorseless, with a Hershey smeared mouth and leftover wrappers gripped tightly in her little fists. Signs of mass candy carnage lay all around her. Sophia sobbed loudly as she forced herself past me to recover what was left of her no longer secret holiday stash. Freya started crying just as loudly that her sweet illicit escapade was over too soon, too soon, indeed. I'm just ha...
