Monday, 1 October 2012

The Dead Mammoth

Warning:  This blog post reflects the workings of the five year old male mind.  Read with care.

Yesterday we went to the Augie cafeteria for lunch, as we do every Sunday.  After lunch was over, Nathan wanted to go home to watch the Vikings, and Z wanted to explore the Augie campus.  So Nathan and Eden went home, and Z and I stayed to play.  We wandered all over the campus.  Z showed me many secret hiding places, we discovered an entire field covered in pure gold leaves, which we placed in a secret cave which only opens using a secret word (which we will not divulge to anyone), and we watched a flag football game.  As we were leaving campus we came across the mammoth sculpture outside of the archeology building.

As I read the sign out loud, Z suddenly yelled, "Watch out, Mama, it's alive."  I, of course, jumped for cover.  Who wants to be crushed by a mammoth?  Z set about killing it with his sword (stick).  He chopped off all four of its legs.  He chopped off both tusks.  Then he chopped off its head.  At that point I came back, very relieved. "You saved us, Z!  It's dead!"  Z looked at me quite seriously and said, "It's not dead until I chop off its penis," which he then proceeded to do.  "Now it's dead!" he declared.

So there's the male mind at work:  You're not really dead until someone chops off your penis.


NH said...

Sorry, hun. I'll take the blame for this pedagogical misstep.

MOM said...

The real male-macho action here was that Z stepped in to kill the mammoth to save you...a damsel in distress!