As the national guard contains looting on Coney Island, and thousands of police amble across lower Manhattan, making sure the inhabitants of the Chaos Zone don't get too rowdy, a very tiny, very adorable crime wave has swept the hitherto peaceful confines of storm-spared Park Slope.
I was in line at the Associated Supermarket on Fifth Avenue earlier this evening, replenishing my larder after a few days hiding from the rain. (Oh God, how I fear the rain.) A rather cute four year-old stood in front of me, clutching a tiny purse and looking every bit like a woman out running errands. Playing casual, she wandered over to the candy section, fingered a pack of Bubble Tape and then glanced at her mother.
And then came...the crime!
Little Miss Dillinger unzipped her purse, picked up the Bubble Tape, and slipped it in. She lost her cool when the zipper wouldn't close, and was trying to force it shut when Momma noticed.
"Put that back. Come on."
She put it back.
"You little sticky fingers. Come here. God, and you've got all that Halloween candy at home."
"There's no more Halloween candy! There's no more Halloween candy!"
About this time, the little girl started crying. I don't think it won any sympathy from Mom, but she avoided prosecution.