Never Were There Smarter Gentlemen

Spring Break: The special time in my life when fourteen-year-old male and five-year-old male meet in the middle somewhere 'roud 'bout nine-year-old-male–24/7–and in-between bouts of conflict, come up with notions that make me shake my head, speculate about intelligence levels and the future of mankind, and pour myself a cocktail.

Enter today's conversation, upon which I eavesdropped:

The scene: Two nine-year-old boys, one 5'11", one 3'5". Entertaining themselves despite the fact that they are bored, hungry, and tired. Current source of entertainment: 3' foam sword. Just one (sweet).

I'll cut to the chase.

B advises, in complete seriousness and concern, "Po, you should never, never, never touch the blade of a real sword. It is extremely sharp, and if you touch it, it can cut your skin really, really bad. And there are two sides, and both can cut you, and you should never never touch the edge of a real sword."

All the while, Po is stroking the foam sword, formulating his response.

"Yeah, I KNOW! That's why I'm TOTALLY not going to be a knight when I grow up."

Me neither. Just for that reason.