GabyWe’re sitting with Sasha at the police station, waiting for our certificate of “no criminal record” for the application process. The lady in charge of the certificates is taking her time. Sasha is getting a bit bored, and in the absence of anything happening, she starts asking questions—what’s this for, why is that, and so on. She’s particularly fascinated by the metal detector frame. Whenever someone walks through it and it beeps, Sasha whispers loudly across the hall, wondering what kind of metal the person might have—could be office keys, maybe a watch, or perhaps some coins. This goes on for about 40 minutes, and the officer on duty starts giving us the side-eye. Then another tough-looking cop walks through the frame, and it beeps again.
“Mama, what does he have that’s metal?”
“I don’t know, Sasha.”
Sasha gasps, “Maybe it’s his nerves!”
