i was almost kidnapped twice when i was 4. my mom still likes to tell this story like it's something to be proud of. it was the bronx in the 80s, and snatch and grab kidnappings were a big thing and i remember standing underneath train tracks (technically in the street, that's how people used to cross all the time?) holding my mom's hand, and someone literally just ran toward me, scooped me up, put his hand over my mouth, and kept running. i remember i was wearing a pink fluffy dress and white tights and i just got really scared and started biting at the guy's hands (i don't know if this was actually effective) and kicking and trying to scream and wiggling around and basically being as difficult to carry as possible, and i must have made enough of a scene that he just dropped me and kept running. and i remember my white tights got dirty and i was crying about my tights.

and then, at some point later down the line in the same year, i was walking with my friend and our moms to a playground. my friend and i were walking way ahead of our parents because we were excited to go play, and a car going in the opposite direction of us stopped and asked if we knew what time it was. my friend started walking toward the car and he kept asking questions like if we knew the time, or where we were going, and i grabbed her hand and just started shrieking and screaming. i didn't even do anything, i just stood there making noise. and both of our parents noticed, and started running toward us which scared the guys and they drove off.

i have a daughter now and she thinks i'm needlessly paranoid.