Conner walked into the room with an excited glint in his eyes and stacks of papers in his arms.
“Dad, I’m going to make knives and sell them!” he said.
“I’m going to make knives and armor out of this paper and sell them!”
“Let’s not take them to school though. I don’t want you getting in trouble.”
He stopped and stared at me with a quizzical look. “Of course I won’t take them to school, Dad. I’m just going to sell them on the street.”
I burst into laughter and couldn’t stop.
“Seriously, Dad. I’ll make a sign that says ‘Armor For Sale! Armor For Sale!’ People driving past our house will stop and buy them.”