So. I have decided to start scrapbooking. I somehow convinced my sister she also needs to make a scrapbook of her trip to Bali (I'm doing the wedding, natch) and that she needed to drive us to Michael's to get some supplies. I told her we were getting back to our Midwestern roots, and we joked about making appliqued sweatshirts with sequins and glitter next. That part really is a joke.

In the car on the way there, I hear about how she's shared her favorite Xmas movie, A Christmas Story, with her 3-year-old son, Aleister. We're getting out of the car, talking about our favorite parts of the movie. I ask Aleister what his favorite part of the movie was.

"The part with the black men."

Holly explains that this is what he called the little bad boys, as they wear all black. Ah.

We walk into the store. Aleister, who was clearly still thinking about the movie, tells me, "Auntie, I want to shoot the black men."

This is Oakland. Eyebrows go up all around us. Holly, flustered, tries a save.

"We don't say 'black men', Aleister; we say 'bad guy'."

Aiee.

We're about to get shit started with us after that. I crouch down and say, "Are you calling them 'black men' because they're wearing all black, Aleister?" He says, "Yes." "Ah, well, then you should probably say, bad guys, or bad guys wearing black, ok?"

And then we all spent too much on cheesy scrapbooking materials. The end.