Sliced Meat, Anyone?

OK, I admit it's my genes that have come into play here.

My five-year-old was pretty happy today because he finally received a toy sword. It goes "clang" when you press the button. We resisted for months and months, but eventually we relaxed our standards just a little bit more.

But I digress.

Back to the boy and his sword. While the rest of the family is sitting at the supper table, a captive audience so to speak, he walks toward us with his sword.

But it's how he's carrying it. He is grasping the sword tightly between his legs, as high up as it will go. It is reversed, so the business end of the sword is pointing towards him, with the handle far out at the other end.

He looks at all of us, and totally deadpans, in a bit of a slow drawl, "Is there a doctor in the house?"

Trust me, it was funny.

And he holds it. Even when we all kill ourselves laughing, he still stays in character and doesn't smile. "Is there a doctor in the house?"

That's my boy. Not too many five year olds can do the "oops I've stabbed myself in the groin" bit and make it funny. But he pulled it off nicely. (No, that's not another pun. Sicko.)