We were driving home from the recycle center and passed an old building next to the railroad tracks. The building houses a junk shop that rivals Sanford & Sons. The following conversation occurred on the way home with my four-year old.
Wm: What's that place there?
Me: They sell stuff.
Wm: Stuff?
Me: Yeah, junk people don't want anymore.
(I hear him in the back seat whispering: stuff-junk, stuff-junk)
Wm: I thought you said "skunk".
Me: No, stuff, junk.
Wm: You know if you take a rifle and point it at your neck and pull the trigger, you'll die.
Me: Uh, yes.
Wm: Do people eat skunks? (We're back to the skunks.)
Me: No.
Wm: Why not?
Me: Well, the meat is probably not good, and skunks stink.
Wm: You could shoot it with a rifle.
Me: Yes, but the skunk would still stink.
Wm: You could put confume (perfume) on it.
Me: You could.
Wm: You could shoot a deer or a skunk with a rifle.
Me: Yes, but why would you want to shoot the deer?
Wm: Maybe if someone was hungry. They could eat it.
Me: (bleeding heart animal lover) Won't the deer's mommy be sad?
Wm: (future hunter?) She's probably already dead from someone shooting a rifle. You could shoot either a deer or a skunk with a rifle, couldn't you?
He nods his head knowingly, confident we've completed this train of though which all started at a junk shop.
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