Lately, Tristan has been building little contraptions that act as projectile weapons. They're not exactly engineering marvels -- in fact, they usually require some kind of energetic throwing, kicking, or slamming on his part. But he works at it all the time, and he's probably on a path that will eventually lead all of us to building a trebuchet in the yard. Today he and Duncan both rigged up a combination of chip clips and extra strong magnets that, when dropped, hurled magnets about 15 feet across the kitchen. This is the conversation that followed the first couple of "successes":
Tristan: It's working!! It worked!! Did you see that?!!
Duncan (cheerfully rubbing a knot on his head): Owww!! That really hurts.
Me: Tristan, get that out of the kitchen. Back porch or play room.
Tristan (leaving): Come on, Duncan! Do you know who we're fighting?
Duncan (following): Smaug?
Tristan: No! We're fighting Hamlet's uncle, because he's so-so BAD!
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