profound conversations

We’ve just turned off the lights, and because he is a boy, David has fallen asleep almost instantaneously.  Because I am me, I am awake and thinking about completely random stuff.  Last night, I was remembering a story that David told me about a kid from his school who once snobbishly made some disparaging opine about those who overcook their pasta.

“David?”

“Mrphmmmm?”

“What did that kid in your school say about al dente pasta?”

“He said that people who cook their pasta more than al dente, he hates them.”

“He hates them?”

“Yes.  Well.  Something like that.”

Huh.  Well that wasn’t as interesting as I was imagining it might be.  This story that I was hoping to play out in my head a bit more has fallen rather flat.  Because that story about the pasta snob really should have been awesomely compelling.
But, I’m still awake.  Maybe I can get David to tell me something else interesting.

“What sort of people do you hate?”

“Me?  I don’t hate anyone.”

I have a long think about who the David might hate.  Surely there must be some group of people who incites his ire.

“What about bad mergers?  Don’t you hate them?”

“Yes, I hate mergerers.”

Did he just say “mergerers?”  Mergerers?  What the hell is a mergerer?

“No, not murderers!  Mergers!  Bad mergers!”

“People who won’t merge in lanes?  They annoy me,” he says.

“But you don’t hate them?”

“No.”

“Ok, but wait a minute.”

“What?”

“You hate murderers then?”

“I just don’t like them.”

And then I get the giggles.  Possibly David wishes that I would just be quiet.

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