This afternoon Marlies was all excited about picking up her report card at school and collecting her new books for the upcoming school year. When she parked her bike at the playground, she didn't think much of the group of macho Moroccans standing around making noise and acting real tough. No bother, until she returned and then realized that in her excitement she had forgotten to lock her bike. Yes, her bike was gone, and so was the group of teenage hooligans (in the Netherlands there is a big problem with hooligans of this sort coming from minority families). Poor Marlies was very taken back and even had to cry some. She was not so much upset that her bike was stolen, though that was bad enough, as she was upset that I would get mad when I came back from work and was told the bad news. Can you believe that? Seven hundred euro down the drain, the bike is not insured, and there is no way to ever find it again. That is why Thea called me up in the middle of a meeting I was having. She explained matters, and I listened carefully, patiently controlling my temper pretty well I have to admit. Any initial rage triggered by such a discovery underwent a controlled release at that point, and it was tempered due to the formal surroundings of an official meeting. Good going Thea! I had time to have a think, cool down, and later realize that there are more important things in life than getting upset about some stupid bike getting stolen. After the meeting, I called up Marlies to share with her my concerns, and I asked here how she was doing. How were her grades? She read down the list and I was very pleased with her good results. I asked her how it went with her new books, all the time avoiding the issue of the stolen bike. At the end of the discussion, as I couldn't ignore the episode altogether without being artificially nice, I told her that it must feel lousy having her bike stolen like that. Yes, she had to agree, but I did not go into details or raise my voice even a single fraction of a decibel. Sometimes a pause for silence and the healing powers of this invisible father-to-daughter support. Another day, another stolen bike, a bunch of impressive grades, and my daughter who is slowing growing up too quickly.