So, Secondborn found the chalk and a little chalkboard to draw on:
Those are robots, by the way.
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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