So, Secondborn found the chalk and a little chalkboard to draw on:
He's also taken to asking profoundly disturbing questions as if they were perfectly normal. Last night's example was, "Daddy, are bandits good guys or bad guys?"
Me: "They're usually bad guys, kiddo."
Secondborn: "Why do bandits take people's hearts? Why do bandits take people's hearts, which are usually their heads?"
Me: "Um... Uh... what?"
I swear, that child is responsible for half of my most colorful nightmares.
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