The other night I was dead asleep when I heard my daughter creep in my room. She was shaking and crying, and even in the dark I could tell she was troubled. Since she had a friend staying over, I was extra worried. In choking sobs she told me they’d done something terrible.
“We w-anted to p-lay a j-oke on my sisters,” she cried. “So we p-ainted their faces with m-arkers while they were sl-eeping. And now there’s marker all over the sh-eets…”
It took me a minute to confirm everyone was all right, that no eyes had been poked out or worse. The way my daughter was acting, this sounded tragic.