He’s eight, OK?

So I’m in the store with my grandson, preparatory to taking him (and his sister) for ice cream.  We’re buying cheese.  One of the varieties of the cheese we want to buy is wasabi.

“We should get some of that for Grama,” he says.

(His father gave him a wasabi pea, once, and he has never forgotten it.)

“Ha!” says I, “Maybe we should forget this ice cream idea.  We shouldn’t get you ice cream, for you are an evil child!”

Most children of eight would object.  Both to the potential loss of ice cream, and to any insinuation that they are evil.  “I’m not bad!” they would whine.

But not my grandson.  He doesn’t batt an eye.  Without a second’s pause, he fires back with “Ah!  But you haven’t yet heard my plan for taking over the world!”

Maybe he takes after his grandfather too much …

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