It was about an hour later when there came a knock on my door, a definite female kind of demand for attention, firm yet light of the weight that a mal... knuckle places upon a door. I lay my Sunday paper on the table beside my cereal and coffee, and stepped through the living room towards the front door, pausing to check on the vidcam that it was indeed a woman at the door. She was in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, slim in the most part, though just beginning to show a middle aged belly. This made his mother sighand say not again.Fiona asked her mother if she could come home later the next day, asthere was football practice."Are you a cheerleader?" her mum asked"No way! I just like watching them practice." You are too young to be looking at boys!" her mother said.Fiona rushed up to her room.I gave them some time to get ready for bed and then I went up to tuckthem in bed. They both had tears in their eyes.This would be a challenge.The next day I still observed as I had to know. More

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