At bedtime, after the reading of the stories, the younger Free-Ride offspring lay upon Dr. Free-Ride’s better half, and Dr. Free-Ride’s better half responded by making strangling noises. Of course, I called in from the other room to remind the children that homicide, whether intentional or accidental, is forbidden in the house.
Younger offspring: I’m not killing him! He’s pretending!
Dr. Free-Ride’s better half: Actually, I’m pretending to be alive.
Elder offspring: Pretending means you are alive. If you weren’t alive, you wouldn’t be able to pretend anything.
Dr. Free-Ride: Well played, child!
Something about trees, apples, and the distance they fall . . .