How Do You Define a "Bad Guy?"

This evening I was swinging Po in the backyard. We're all relaxed, enjoying the sunset while Cam ran around naked in the grass and N.A.S.H.A. barked her head off at the butterflies. Suddenly Po asks, "Do police have guns?" Mind you, guns are not a hot topic of conversation in our home.

"Yes, police carry guns."

"Why?" He further inquired. This seemed almost as challenging as a pre-teen sex conversation.

Totally unprepared and slightly stammering, I responded, "Well, sometimes people do REALLY bad things, like trying to hurt other people, and if they won't stop, then the policeman has a gun to stop the bad person."

"Tell me more."

"Well, sometimes bad people try to hurt policemen, so they also carry guns to protect themselves."

"Oh. What's in the guns?" Seriously. Are we going here?

"Bullets."

"What are bullets?" Why must my child be so inquisitive?

"They are the small pieces of metal that fly out of guns and go into a body. They can hurt very badly or kill someone."

"Like lions?" Where is this going?

"Well, I suppose some hunters shoot lions."

"But lions aren't mean," he reasoned.

"No they're not mean. They're just hungry." Did I seriously say that? Where the hell is this conversation going? Abort. Abort. SOS. And we're going to the zoo tomorrow. Shit, I'm in serious trouble.

"Well, do policemen shoot bad people like when I was screaming in the house yesterday?" And I thought it couldn't get any worse.

"NO, honey. No WAY. NO WAY. Policemen only shoot really bad criminals who are breaking the law in the most extreme way and making life dangerous for other people. Although I don't like you screaming at the top of your lungs in the house and you get a timeout if you continue to scream when I ask you to stop, that is not against the law, and it's not making things dangerous for other people. It just hurts mommy's head."

"Okay."

"You're not a bad person. You're a great person."

"Yeah. I have to pee."