I pulled into the driveway. I was lucky and got off work early today. I noticed my neighbor’s car was gone. She wasn’t home, and she probably wouldn’t be for a few hours. I started into the house, but paused, looking back at my neighbor’s place. I shouldn’t, but I gave in to the temptation. I slipped into her yard and up to the flowerbed alongside her house. I picked two of the flowers. “Ah-ha. Caught you.” The voice behind me made me jump. I turned to find my neighbor. I couldn’t deny I was stealing her flowers. “I thought it was you. You thought I didn’t even notice the flowers were missing, didn’t you? Well, I did, and I knew who it was, and now I caught you.” “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have. They’re her favorite color. I’ve planted some of my own, but they won’t bloom until next year.” “They’re for a girl, huh? I want to meet her?” “What?” “I want to meet the girl who is so special that you’d steal flowers. I want to see if she’s pretty enough for that.” I hesitated. “Or I can call the cops.” I sighed and motioned for her to follow. Rather than leading her to the car, I headed to the backyard. We slipped out through a gap in the back hedge to the cemetery. I didn’t say a word or even look at the woman as I approached the grave. She was speechless as I handed her the old flowers and lay down the new ones. "Pretty, maybe," I finally said. "I can tell you she was the most adorable 2-year-old you've ever seen."