This is How Rumors Get Started

Ding dong. Ok, more of bzzz.

Quickly find keys. Stampede down the 30+ stairs. Try to beat the next bzzzzzz.

Turn on light so I don't fall down the last 17 stairs.

10 more stairs to go. bzzzzz. phooey. I lost to the doorbell.

9-year old eyes staring at me through the door's window.

Unlock door. Open it to the young boy.

*Insert 2 minutes of Dutch dialogue here*

"Ik spreek Engels," I say at the first chance I have.

"OK," he says, "Me...uhhh...koran...uhhh....Christmas...money." At least that's what I heard.

I don't see how these things go together. But I could make up a story.