(A little something for Cody's readers.)



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In a hurried manner as if to attract attention, the delightful sprite promenaded forward with his left foot. Cody stripped his schoolbag off his shoulders. The Spiderman backpack landed on the top of the counter with a loud and deep KER-THUNK!

Cody recalled an unfortunate event from earlier that day. He rubbed the knot in the middle of his forehead with the flattened palm of his hand and thought to himself, 'Good thing my bag wasn't my head when I fell asleep in Geometry class. Serves me right though. Being tired is what I get for having my patented nightmares about Palo Pinto and not sleeping like I should.'

He knew the sheriff's eagle-eyed vision would zero in on the contusion and an explanation would be required. A hair-brained response would wait. One quick step with his right foot and Cody yanked open the refrigerator door. Somehow, its strong hinges withstood the onslaught.

Inside the icebox, Cody discovered homemade chocolate chip cookies. Quiet as a whisper on the breeze, their subdued undertone cooed, "Co - dy!"

The boy grabbed the treats, and a bottle of milk he'd earlier placed on the chiller's shelf, after his half-eaten breakfast, before he dashed off to school. He allowed the refrigerator door to close shut on its own.

From his vantage point at the kitchen table, Sheriff Daniels observed his ward's movements. Cody's antics never ceased to amaze the lawman. He said, "Well, if the life of the party didn't just waltz right into the room I don't know what did."

Cody sat at the table and began, "Sheriff, I know you've told me how much you despise scammers. But, we had an assembly today and the speaker talked about suicide caused by people having their identity stolen. She told us about 16 percent of victims of such crimes thought about offing themselves because they thought it was easier than recovering from the crime. And, she said the number is an all-time high record for her organization."

"Oh, yes. In my book, identity thieves are right up the same alley with scammers. And, it is easy to become a statistic of that crime when someone's personal information can be breached by something as simple as being scammed. You do know what personal information is, right?"

"Yeah, it's like a bank account number, or maybe even, and Beth told me this one, your social security number."

"I know victims of identity theft who have expressed to me, while I investigated the crime, their feelings of guilt and shame. Some have gone as far as to lose their trust in others."

"What can be done for ID theft victims?"

"One good way may be change the way these people are treated so they don't feel ignored by organizations out there who are supposed to help them after they have fallen victim to this crime."

"How do ID thieves get this personal information?"

"Well, computer braniac. Sometimes by phishing, email compromise, or having their social media accounts taken over. Throw in sophisticated voice mail, and direct contact assaults, and viola. Anymore, artificial intelligence is becoming so advanced, ID thieves could use it to make it much more difficult to spot phishing."

"You would think people knew better than get themself involved in scams and ID thievery."

"You would," Sheriff Daniels agreed. He looked at his young charge and asked, "Now, is your bedroom neat and tidy like I asked you to make sure the room was three days ago last Saturday morning?"

Cookie crumbs circled Cody's mouth. They made his lips resemble a severe case of carbuncles. Using the back of his hand as a napkin, Cody wiped them off and replied with a shake of his head, "No."

The sheriff stroked the boy's nose with his finger and said, "Last warning. If those standards are not met in one hour's time, you will have more than plenty of sore sit down spots. Beth is not your personal maid, nor is it her responsibility to pick up after you. You have a trail of dirty clothes scattered from one side of the floor in your room to the other. Your bathroom sink needs to be scrubbed clean, and who knows what array of critters reside under your bed. So, make sure you vacuum. While you're at it, Super Sport, you can put clean linens on your bed, and the dirty sheets in the basket in the laundry room. When you're through with the projects you've been given to complete, make sure I see your finished homework tonight before you do anything else." He held out his hand. "I'll take the electronics you have stashed in your backpack...where they are not supposed to be. And, I've already locked your bedroom computer. You will get it back once you have all your chores done."

Cody leapt from his chair. His impassioned protest expressed, "You're not being fair!"

Sheriff Daniels drank the final drop from his coffee cup. In disapproval, he wagged his finger at the distraught boy and said, "Sit down! Or would you rather we conclude this discussion out in the shed? It's been a while since I've seen the pale white canvass that is your shining glory."

Cody knew what the sheriff's question meant. Like a pond with no ripples his defiance dissipated. He seated himself and released a tranquil, "Nuh-uh."

"Then, end of conversation. March!"