When i was 12, I baby-sat for 2-year-old twins in my neighborhood. This was back in 1990, when a preteen could play with the kids for a couple of hours, put them to bed and spend the rest of the night watching TV and gossiping on the phone.

One evening, I put the twins to bed, raided the kitchen (the parents always left great snacks) and settled into the recliner. The twins were surprisingly quiet, which was unlike them, since they shared a room and often kept each other up.

After an hour or so, I heard a noise coming from the baby monitor, and it didn't sound like a 2-year-old! I muted the television and turned up the monitor. Although I could not make out his words, it was definitely a man's voice.

I was terrified. What was I, a mere seventh-grader, supposed to do in a situation like this? I couldn't confront a grown man. Who knows what he was planning? I didn't have any personal ties to the twins, so I seriously considered fleeing -- figuring I could at least save myself.

As I contemplated my options, I heard the voice again. This time it sounded slightly more familiar. Gradually, I was able to make out what it was saying: "D is for Dog."

I breathed a sigh of relief. The twins were simply playing with their See 'n Say.

Heather Rose, Arlington

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