He’ll destroy you.
He’ll take a three foot by four foot, half-inch thick piece of Styrofoam,
cut the whole thing up to make an eighteen inch sword and in the process bury
your studio in teeny tiny bits of styro-crumbs that float around and stubbornly
resist any device you use to try to pick them up.
For weeks they’ll be in your paints, on your keyboard, and
in every nook and cranny within thirty feet of his project.
You’ll smile, and like a good uncle (or aunt), tell him what
a neat sword he made.
The sword will last for about five minutes, as Captain Blood
slashes around the house, then it’ll break and he’ll be on to the next project.
I know I should have made him clean it up. But he’s eight, and at eight the studio
is for making stuff, and having fun, right?
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking right now, that’s what my
wife said too.
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