“Dad,” began Novalie as she rounded the corner to where I lay on the couch, game controller in hand, “I want to ask you something.”

“I am very scared, Novalie, because I think I know what you’re going to ask me, and I don’t know if I can do it.”

“What, Dad?  What do you think I’m going to ask?”

“You want my help to kill a pig in the neighbors’ yard,” I stated as though it were a confirmed fact.

“I don’t kill animals,” Novalie reminded.  ”What’s your next guess?”