The other day I walked past an elderly woman sitting on her stoop who was taking care of a big, nerdy boy approximately the age of twelve. He was slowly and awkwardly bouncing a soccer ball next to her. This is what I heard:

Kid: Hey, Grandma?
Granny: What?
Kid: Do you think demons are real?
Granny: Stop that bouncing, please.

Kid bounces the ball.

Kid: Hey, Grandma?
Granny: Yes?
Kid: So, you don’t think demons are real?
Granny: [sighs] No.
Kid: Oh.

My poufy hair will require me to subject myself to a summer haircut soon.