Michael would not go to bed so he sat on the couch with me watching such parts of the news as I deemed suitable for his consumption.
Him: That’s a robber who’s been found guilty.
Me: That’s right.
Him: And they’re going to kill him.
Me (slightly shocked): No, of course, they’re not. He’s going to go to jail.
Him: Oh yes, and he won’t get any food there.
Me: No, of course, he’ll be fed!
Michael: What is it, a holiday camp? [OK, I made that last line up but you can see that this is what was going through his little mind.]
