Roan: My sex education book shows boys how to shave, so Dad can relax. He won’t have to bother teaching me. (Age 9 and 3/4)

Mom (looking a photo of an elk): Can you imagine carrying horns on your head every day of your life? Roan (matter-of-factly): I carry a 300 pound backpack on my back every day. Mom: Touché.

Roan (admiring his bare torso in the bathroom mirror): I’m cut! (Age 8)

Roan (with seriousness and concern): Today at school Darin put a lollipop back in his mouth after dropping it on the ground and he said it was salty from the salt they use to melt the snow, and I told him he wouldn’t have a tongue by tomorrow morning! I told him that the salt would … Continue reading →

Roan: Robots don’t have blood. Well, not much. (Age 7)