I do have a "cute" incident to recount.
This morning I killed a fly (aren't I tough). Coco wanted to dispose of it, but for some reason the porcelain watery grave wouldn't do today.
He took it to the balcony and let it drop from our dizzying 3rd-floor height.
As the fly fell, he said (age 3, mind you): "AAAAaaaaahhh..."
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