"Daddy, do lions eat wart hogs?"
My almost-three year old asked.
- Umm...I think sometimes. Yeah, I think.
"Oh. I like lions. I like to eat wart hogs too."
- Actually you don't.
You're vegetarian. Someday, like when you're 44, it will be up to you. But right now, you're vegetarian. Which means you don't eat wart hogs.
With the height of pre-pre-pre-adolescent rebellion, he glared at me.
"Actually, I DO eat wart hogs. And I eat rabbits."
- You eat rabbits?
"Yeah. I eat animals. I eat wart hogs and rabbits. And bears."
- Reality check.
You don't eat those things. I know this, because I am making supper, and it is a vegetarian supper, and there are no bears, wart hogs, or bunnies on the menu. So there.
Infuriatingly, in the face of all reality, he looked up at me and proclaimed,
"Actually, I am vegetarian. And I eat bears and wart hogs and rabbits."
- That is ludicrous.
I accurately informed him.
You cannot be vegetarian and eat those things. Those concepts are mutually-exclusive. Plus, it's illegal to eat bear, I think.
"I actually do eat animals, Daddy."
I boiled with frustration.
- No. I am correct and you are not. You are vegetarian. Period.
He did not seem to catch on to the fact that I had just defeated him with sharp-edged, unassailable reason. He stepped back, swung around with cheerful insolence, and tossed off a final untruth, sing-song ditty style.
"I eat animals, I eat animals, I eat animals."
- No you don't.