Davionn called me up to his bedroom to assemble a race track for him. When I opened the door, he was wearing his hockey mask and aiming a bright orange plastic revolver in my direction. I corrected him immediately because a rule in our home (a fairly logical one) is that you never aim a gun at anyone. His response was “Don’t worry mommy, this is an old fashion gun.” 

Me – “An old fashion gun? It’s a toy gun yes, but you still don’t point it towards anyone.”

Davionn – “This one can’t shoot though, it’s a cowboy gun, from back in the old days.” *after thinking for a moment* “Mommy, they shouldn’t have made guns shoot bullets. Then people wouldn’t get hurt. Why didn’t they just keep them the old-fashion way?

Me – “What is the old-fashion way?”

Davionn – “You know. When bad guys were just scared of clicks. The old-fashion guns just make a clicking sound. They don’t have to shoot.”

Me – “It would be a lot safer if they all just clicked.”

Davionn – “Yeah. If they just clicked. And if they had to fight…  they could use nunchucks. Those are cool.”

Oh, my child. If only it were as simple as clicks, a ninja, and a passive wild west.