Stuffing looks like barf. At least that's what Carl thinks. Carl is seven. He sat across the table from me last night at the Faculty/Staff Christmas Smorgasbord. As I sat there eating my rice pudding, I heard Carl look up and proclaim loudly that stuffing looks like barf. I tried hard not to shoot rice pudding through my nose. It was a struggle. I wish that it were socially acceptable for me to speak openly about things that look like barf.
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Three minutes later Carl looked up to ask me if I was scared of lightning. Huh?He must have sensed my look of confusion, because he repeated the question as though I didn't understand him (we weren't talking about anything weather related, by the way). After the second time, I answered that I wasn't. He then clapped his hands to see if I "flinched." I didn't. I then tried to explain to Carl that lightning is the flash and that thunder is the actual noise. I don't think he understood.
Maybe I don't understand.