By Jane Reid

Betty didn’t expect her son home until late, so she was surprised when the door opened.
“Josh! How did you get here so early?” she asked.
“I hitched a ride,” he said.
“How often have I told you not to do that? It’s dangerous.”
“Aw, mom, I know Drake. He’s good guy, you’d like him. He doesn’t even smoke.”
“Even so, Josh . . .”
“Don’t worry so, mom. He’s not like his hot-tempered kin. Besides, I have my fire-proof vest on.”
“Son, you know I’m not a bigot. There’s good in every kind. But you just can’t trust dragons.”