The art of being Californian, it seems, is to cultivate a loose-limbed insouciance while secretly working away like a frantic ant.

--Richard Fortey The Earth: An Intimate History

Saturday, January 2, 2010

A Conversation

5yrold: When I grow up, I am going to run an animal rescue center.

me [not really paying attention because he talks nonstop]: That's nice, honey.

5yo: Yeah, and when hunters come, I am going to kill them.

me [now paying attention]: What?!

5yo: If they come to hurt the animals, I will stop them. I will kill them.

me: Do you think that's very kind?

5yo: Well, I hate animal suffering.

me: Yeah, but isn't killing humans also causing suffering?

5yo: But, Mom, they're killing animals.

me: So maybe instead of killing hunters, you could do something else.

5yo [honestly at a loss for another alternative to murder]: Like what?

me: Well, maybe you could take the hunters' guns and then have them go to school to learn about how not to kill animals.

5yo [thinking it over]: I could take their guns. . . [face lights up because he's just had a bright idea]. That's what I'm gonna do: I'll take their guns and tell them "hey, you have to stop killing animals. You need to get a house and a wife and a baby."

Apparently, yuppiehood is the solution to animal suffering.

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