Jaryth was downstairs weeping piteously. Mark could not console him. I had no idea what was wrong. Then suddenly he was calm again. Phew, the crisis is averted.
“I want that!” he yells. And before Mark can respond, “Where’d the zombies go?” Followed by some more crying.
I can tell that having a son that is probably going to be a gamer just like his dad is going to result in a lot of humorous statements. He plays Plants vs. Zombies, and when he asks to play he says “I want to feed the zombies.”
Of course, that is my fault, as I noticed that since he’s only a toddler and doesn’t understand the point of PvZ he tends to let the zombies through fairly frequently. Thus I said that he was clearly feeding them. He was concerned that the poor zombies were going hungry, so he feeds them his own brain. That’s the generous soul he is.
Of course, now he’s back to playing Tozzle. Tozzle is an extremely loud game that he plays at full blast volume almost every day. He plays only three of the puzzles in it: the windmill (which he calls the “mim mill”), the train, and the planes. When he builds the “red one” (the plane with red markings) he then finishes and tells us that we are going to the airport. “We take a plane to Bibi’s house!” he announces over and over.