I’m out by the Art Museum catching some Pokemons, and I wind up playing with a family who could use a break from their toddlers. We start off with the basics: Whole-body-shaking handshakes, node booping, y’know how it goes. Eventually they run off, but we’re in a park so it’s mostly-okay for us to leave them be. The older one (4?) runs up to me holding a rock.
Toddler: I found this!
Me: Oh dear lordie golly gee willikers. That has got to be the finest rock I’ve seen in my entire last 30 minutes.
Toddler: It’s a rock!
Me: You know, if you stop and take good care of that rock, it’ll grow up into a big, strong boulder.
Toddler: …
Toddler: ??
Toddler: !
Toddler: No it won’t! It’s… rocks are just rocks!
Toddler’s Dad: Uh… hello? Where do you think mountains come from?
Me: Yeah, y’see, when a mommy mountain and a daddy mountain love each other very much, they do a special dance called an earthquake
All the adults: Jesus Christ, Matt what the fuck
One Person: That’s… not… entirely wrong?
Toddler’s Dad: Yeah, I mean, why you think Daddy Mountain had to drop outta school?
Us: HAH
Anyway while we were joking the younger kid thought it would be funny to drop a rock off of a nearby ledge and nearly killed a couple pedestrians. So we stopped playing with rocks.