The scene: as with so many such discussions, my car. Katrina is away at a party with the youngest. Tasked to take Evan (8) and Abby (6) to dinner, I have employed promises of shrimp and crab to persuade them to have their first Japanese meal.

Me: Okay. So Daddy will have some octopus. You guys can have shrimp tempura. And maybe some sushi. Maybe with some crab.

Abby: Daddy?

Me: Yes?

Abby: How do they kill the crab?

Me: Hand-to-hand combat.

Abby: Huh?

Evan. No. That's not how you kill a crab.

Me: OK. How do you?

Evan. You grab it by the leg. And then you smack it against the wall again and again. BANG BANG BANG.

Me: ….

Evan: Or you could go into a small, small room. Then you could hit the crab on one wall — BANG! — and then on the other wall — BANG! until it was dead.

Me: Okay. You have now officially creeped me the heck out.

Evan: [thrusting arms above his head] WOOOOOOO VICTORY!

Me: …

Abby: Daddy? Do you know how they kill an octopus?

Me: . . . . . no?

Abby: WITH A BAZOOKA! KAPOOOOOOSSHHSSHSHS!

Me: Okay, no more cartoons.

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