Crumpled Home

(RJ wanders past, arms full of ‘stuff’)

Dad: Umm… RJ, doesn’t that all belong outside?

RJ: Oh yeah, Dad. I’m just moving it in here for a couple of minutes.

I’m sensible, you know! A man with his own brain.

(driving in the car)

RJ: I know the WORST place to get sunburned. Do you know it, Dad?

Dad: I can think of a few places that would be pretty terrible. Where do you think?

RJ: The second worst place is…  In… Your… Armpits… The skin is so thin there, and you’re always moving it. It would be TERRIBLE!

Dad: I totally agree!

RJ: I know. In the olden days, they just wore singlets and they would get burned there all the time. One day the king said, “Enough! I hate having sunburned armpits!” and so someone invented a t-shirt. The king had a big celebration and it wasn’t a problem any more.

Dad: Cool! I didn’t know that… You said that’s the second worst place to get burned. What’s the actual WORST place?

RJ: Oh, easy. Sunburn on your brain is definitely the worst place… but you can only get that if you’re a zombie. Don’t worry about it.

June flew past in a hurry. The kids put together an impromptu magic show one morning, and LR played piano for a huge crowd. RJ flew and continued to be full of surprises. We spent an evening outside taking German lessons in the dark, and the kids channelled their inner zombies while discovering where all their good ideas come from.

RJ took flying lessons at one of his friend's birthday parties. That trampoline practice came in handy!

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RJ: (frustrated) You just have to climb a tree, Dad! That’s all you have to do. Ugghghhhhh… (throws up his hands)

Don’t you know that zombies can’t jump? Don’t you know that zombies can’t climb? They don’t have brains — they can’t figure it out!

You’re just going to have your brains eaten and die.

Is that what you want??

Really??

(shakes head in disgust)

RJ: Mum. Did you know that when dinosaurs said ‘Yes’ they meant ‘No’, and when they said ‘No’ they meant ‘Yes’?

Mom: No. Where did you learn that?

RJ: Not from school! Not from Wikipedia! The brain! The brain just tells me things!

RJ: It’s like, “Is drinking urine bad for your kidneys? Yes!”

RJ: That’s from my brain too!

(while getting ready for the day)

RJ: I know what to do if zombies come… I’ve got a poison mushroom and when they eat it, then they’ll really be dead.

Dad: But RJ, there’s a problem. Zombies don’t eat mushrooms, they eat…

RJ: BRAAAAAAIINNNZZZZ…

Dad: Yeah. So there’s the problem.

RJ: Not a problem… I’ll just put some brains inside the mushroom so that they want to eat it.

Dad: That’ll work, except for one thing. Where are you going to get the brains from?

RJ: Another zombie!

Dad: Isn’t that dangerous?

RJ: Sure, but I can use rope. If I throw it like a lasso, and tie him up, then I get its brains out safely!

Dad: Just watch out for that zombie blood.

RJ: Yes, I will have to be very careful. After that, I will put some traps by the front door… Actually, a lot of traps.

Dad: What kind of traps work on zombies?

RJ: I will have a glue shooter first, so they get stuck and can’t move very fast, then a boomerang shooting gun and a light saber shooting gun. That will get rid of all of them.

Dad: And after that? What will you do with the huge pile of dead zombies in the doorway. That’s going to be a BIG problem.

RJ: That’s easy! I’ll just put them in the garden afterwards. Dead zombies are very good for plants.

(after delivering bowls of rice pudding covered in fresh raspberry sauce)

Dad: (whispering to RJ) I think it’s monkey brains.

RJ: (whispering) No. It’s not.

(a few minutes later)

RJ: (yelling) It’s Santa brains!!!

Dad: But doesn’t Santa need them?

LR: Naah. He’s done that trip so many times, he doesn’t need brains to know where to go.

RJ: He’s so good, he doesn’t need them, and we get to eat them up!

(during breakfast)

RJ: Braaaaains…. Braaaains… I … need … brains…

Dad: Have you checked your sister? She might have some to spare.

RJ: (turning to LR) Braaaains?

LR: Sorry RJ. I need all my brains.

RJ: Braaaains…

Dad: How about the dog? Actually, forget that. She doesn’t have any brains.

LR: (protesting) Yes she does!!!

RJ: Braaaains…

Mum: Here you go RJ. Porridge for us, and a big fresh bowl of brains for you.

RJ: Thank you mummie zombie.

Mum: You’re welcome little zombie.

(over breakfast)

RJ: The doctor chopped my head off one day. Want to know why?

Dad: Sure. Why’d he do that?

RJ: I was bumping into everything and falling over too much. They chopped it off so they could look at my brain.

Dad: Was everything okay in there?

RJ: No. They had to put in a new one. I don’t bump into things now…

RJ: … It’s also better at remembering to put shoes on when I go outside and watching out for snakes.