The coffee shop is normally a good place to people watch, though I don’t think I’m going to have much luck today. I have my usual corner table, coffee and laptop out; pretending to be working.

Sitting at the next table are a young mother and her two children. They are maybe 3 and 5 years old and noisy. The mother smiles at me apologetically a few times, aware that her children are causing a general disturbance. I just smile back and nod knowingly, my eyes on the ring on her finger.

The boy is trying to prove to his older sister and mother how high he can count, unaware that he’s proving it to everyone else as he continues right along.

“67, 68, 69.” He stops.

The mother turns up her head to look straight at me. In a voice directed above her children she asks. “You do know what comes after 69, don’t you?”

A wry smile crosses my face, my eyes never leaving hers as I murmur. “I roll you over and take you before sending you home to your family.”

The young boy turns to look at me through eerily familiar eyes.