Graverobbers Wanted: No Experience Necessary

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    "I'M NOT GOING to tell you kids again to knock it off! If I have to turn this car around and cancel my stakeout, there'll be no TV for the rest ofthemonth ! "

   "It's July twenty-eighth. The month's almost over," said my daughter Theresa with a grin. She's been alive for eight years, and a smart-ass for six-and-a-half of them.

   "Don't be cute. Now I want you to behave yourselves. I bought you nice new coloring books and crayons, so use them!"

   "Can I color on Kyle?" asked Theresa.

   "No, you may not."

   "Even if I stay inside the lines?"

   My wife Helen says that Theresa takes after me, and as happens more times than I can count, she's right. That's why I try to let Helen handle as much of the childraising as possible. It's better for society that way.

   "I'm not going to tell you again," I warned. Then I used language I shouldn't be using in front of children (at least, children with a tendency to repeat colorful phrases in front of their mother) as I realized that I'd just missed my turn. "Okay, that's it. Tomorrow morning both of you are being shipped off to that munitions factory in darkestPeru ."

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