I spent most of the weekend in the library, trying to meet my new deadline for the dissertation.
Saturday afternoon I came home to find Q. and E. outside staining the fence.
“We had a really interesting conversation at lunch,” Q. told me.
Apparently E. became interested in how the world came to be, and started asking his father how the earth was created, and who made it, and where did it come from.
Q. answered his questions as best he could, but apparently his answers weren’t satisfactory because E. then proceeded to come up with his own explanation.
According to E., the world was made by Americans in a factory in Mexico and they brought it over in a pickup truck.
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