“Mom, I have a question.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”  He looks deadly serious.  I put down the spatula and give him my full attention bracing for whatever troubling subject is about to land on breakfast.

“Okay, honey.  What is it?”

“If a person has a pumpkin for a head, are they still alive?”

“Umm . . .”  Mind goes blank.  Must say something. “Uh, well.  Are they still moving?”