Well, he’s not actually a baby. My four-and-a-half-year-old son is quite precocious. Not only has he made his first pun (watching his Christmas program, he said the little girl wearing the star was the star of the show–I know, it’s obvious, but it’s a a pun and he’s four-and-a-half), but the other day he distributed his first middle.
I made some chili for myself for lunch and put some shredded cheese on it. Then, being the benevolent despot, I put a little cheese on the boys’ lunch plates and announced, “I share the cheese because I am from Wisconsin.”
“Am I from Wisconsin?” he asked.
“No, you are from Missouri,” I said mournfully. “But you come from many generations of Wisconsinites.”
“Is Grandma from Wisconsin?” he asked.
“No, Grandma was from St. Louis. But Nana is from Wisconsin.”
“So she shares the cheese.”
Bang, just like that, proper syllogism. He closed the circuit. Wow, I am so proud.
Also, I’m sorry for burdening the rest of you Wisconsinites with that burden to live up to. If the lad ever sees you with cheese, he’ll expect you to share it.
If you don’t want to, just tell him you’re from Minnesota. Or if you see him with some and want to take it, I guess you could say you’re from Illinois.
