If there's one thing I want to do . . .

Last night we were out working in our yard (i.e. weed patch, as some would have it) when some neighbors came by on a walk (good neighbors, not faux pseudo-neighbors who leave anonymous letters in the mailbox). They have 8-year-old twins, and the boy twin was in our Sunday School class a couple of years ago. He is delightful, if a bit of a handful. For example, one Sunday he escaped from me and started doing ninja rolls up the center aisle of the Sunday School. Sigh. He was always bored, and I didn’t blame him, because I was often bored in there, too. His little mind was too quick for the Church Ladies.

Anyway, the kids were poking around in the garden asking Marmot Dad the Latin names of various plants. Apparently, apropos of nothing, Twin A said to Marmot Dad, “If there’s one thing I want to do, it’s stop global warming.”

Let me repeat that: “If there’s one thing I want to do, it’s stop global warming.”

The kid kills me. He went on to explain that it was all about the sharks (he spent a lot of time drawing sharks when he was our pupil). Global warming is not good for sharks, I gather. He let Marmot Dad in on a little shark trivia, though: “Bull sharks are the only sharks that swim in fresh water. There was an unusual incident (sic) once where someone was attacked by a shark in a creek. It was probably a bull shark.”

Then he rollerbladed into the sunset. Sic transit gloria twinboy.