I asked Betty to be with her 5 year old son today. I was at work, my wife at the universe. In the evening, the son proudly shows a living healing stone, pasturing in a poured bath.
Grandfather, for fun, bought a fish for his grandson. Well, in order not to traumatize the child’s psyche by talking about killing, I proposed to my son "let him live a little", and there we may roast (I think)
The clock passes, the son turns around (I sit, I work) and puts various caliber dining and kitchen knives next to him. The dialogue:
Dad, have you finished your job?
Yes, there is a little left.
Well, when you finish, turn off the computer - and let's go to kill the rock!
and??? The karp? to kill?? to
Well yes! I have already played. You can already eat.
Youth is nothing holy.