My wife Denise and I were walking along the beach the other night when we encountered a group of people hanging out near the swinging rings. We stopped to get some water at the drinking fountain, and I greeted a little boy, perhaps 4 or 5 years old, as he walked by.
“Hello, shorty,” I said. He eyeballed me but said nothing as he scampered past the fountain, then turned back once he’d reached the other side.
“My name is Marcus,” he said.
“Ah, mine’s not,” I replied.
“I know,” he said condescendingly.
“Oh, really? How do you know that? I could have the same name as you,” I said.
“No, you can’t,” he shot back.
“Oh no? Why not?”
“Because,” he said, in a triumph of 4 year old logic, “you’re big!”
Of course little boys don’t have a monopoly on nonsensical remarks. Denise is a master of them. Later the same night, in fact, she said something worth reporting.
Denise: “Um, what was that thing I was going to say before I was going to say that other thing I haven’t said?”
Me: ??? O_o