Recycled

This happened when he was four years old.

MLB and I were making dinner when our youngest son came in the kitchen and got the egg slicer out of the drawer and started playing with it. The game was to open and close it rapidly and repeatedly.

"Dearest son of mine!" I exclaimed. "It is my greatest wish that you stop playing with that!"

It may indeed be possible that I was neither that tender nor that polite in this request. The words "Hey!" and "Don't!" probably found themselves uttered, if the truth must be known. But I did not want him to hurt himself (or damage the device).

In any case, he did not like what he had heard, so he put the egg slicer back and slammed the drawer shut. And he stormed out of the kitchen into the other room, but stopped and turned around so he could stand there and glare at me.

"Just trying to make sure you are safe, buddy!" I said this as I returned to help with dinner again, but I could tell by the scowl on his face that he was not done with me yet.

Nearly three minutes passed before I looked up from what I was doing to glance in the other room again. He was still there and had evidently thought of what he wanted to say before running out:

"You have a fat tummy!"