"First you find a cat. Then you find the toilet. Then you put the cat in the toilet. The next answer is, put both lids on. The next answer is, you flush the cat in the toilet. And you make sure no one is at the door. And the last answer is, you open the toilet, and you see a sparkly cat and a sparkly toilet. But don't smell the breath of the cat, because it's been in the toilet so long."
By the Little Fayoumis, aged 8.
How to keep cats out of trouble: the fun way.
"The first answer, you try to catch the cat. The next answer, you punch its head. The next answer, you try to put soap inside the body, and put glue so the skin can stay dry until it's together. The cat will be fine. Then it feels nice and warm, and then it goes to sleep -- in the toilet."
How to play with kids: the fun way.
"The first answer, you find a kid. And the next answer, quick, you put it in the laundry washer. And then, quickly keep it closed so that the kid won't open it so easy. Then, you put the quarters in, then you turn on the washer. The next answer: don't mind if she's screaming. It's just an enjoy laugh. Now you can make the easy way of a kid. And every time you touch the kid, don't, because it's very very very hot. And don't mind if it's going (noise), it's just enjoy. "
I think the Little Fayoumis's "the fun way" series is pretty scary, in the way that only 8 year old kids can be scary. He's also very punchy-tired, and doesn't have school tomorrow. We've already had plums, brownies, sandwiches, jelly balls, Jordan almonds, and chocolate covered cashews. He bounced off things, hid in pillows, and spanked me. We also cleared up an issue that he had, a little misunderstanding over soda. He really likes plums. They are his favorite fruit. I pitched them to him as being similar to sour gummy worms (which he loves); they were sweet and sour as advertised. He ate half of the first one, then asked for more later.
He decided it was bedtime just then, actually, and went off to brush his teeth (again) and go to bed.
Something I judge to be the typical cat moshing brought a lamp crashing down -- it may have come down today.
The lamp was shattered in large chunks, with some small fragments here and there. I looked at the break, and I felt the texture of the clay, and I yowled in outrage at the shoddy workmanship. This clay was only fired once. It was fired straight from dry to done, not paused at bisque somewhere in between and allowed to reach full hardness.
Then I giggled at myself, because only the mildly potterygeeky daughter of a potter would yowl over such a thing.