Dangerous

Teaching two 11-year-old girls the word "dangerous," I ask them to name some dangerous animals.

"You're a dangerous animal," says one.

"OK, OK," I say. "Maybe. Can you name any other dangerous animals?"

"Your hair," says the other girl. And she explains that my hair and I are actually different animals, that my hair leaves my head at night and flies around the city feeding on moths.

"It's true," says the first girl then. "I saw it."