My son, the bad guy
Tonight's conversation:
C-Man: Mommy play with me.
Me: What do you want to play?
C-Man: I want to play bad guys.
Me: I don't want to play bad guys.
C-Man: Why?
Me: Because bad guys are bad and I don't want to be bad.
C-Man: No mom. They say sorry to people when they kill them.
Me: [Speechless]
C-Man: [Acting out a scene with the bad guys where one knocks the other off the table. He picks up the one standing and leans him off the table and says...] I'm sorry I had to kill you, but I'm a bad guy and I want to run you over with my train.
Me: [Head downstairs to have a talk with Grandpa] What the heck are you guys watching when I'm not at home?
*****
Yesterday's Incident
Last nite I watched him play with his trains. He says "Watch this mom." He puts a plastic toy dog down on the floor, gets his train and then runs the train over the dog. He looks up at me and laughs. Then he says "That was fun. Watch me do it again."
My mood: speechless and slightly amused and horrified at the same time