Wishful Thinking

Probably about six months ago, Jakey and I were in his bottom bunk chatting before bedtime.  “Let’s talk ye-ster-day.  Whadwedo ye-ster-day?”

We’d been reading books and came across some racoons dressed as robbers.  Jakey says, “I be a bad man, Mama.”
“What?  No, you will never be a bad man.”
“Yes, I want to be a bad man.”
“No, you never want to be a bad man.  Do you mean Batman?  You want to be Batman?”
“I be a robber.”
“Robin?  Are you talking about Batman and Robin?”
I let it pass, hoping I’d misunderstood my 2 1/2 year old with aspirations of incarceration.

For the record, I’m now 100% sure he knew exactly what he was saying.

Tonight we’re driving home after he’d been playing with Costa who’d been pretending to be a bad guy.  “I’m a bad guy, Mama.”
“No, JJ, you were just pretending to be a bad guy.  You’re not a bad guy.”
“Yes, I was pretending.  I’m not a bad guy Mama.  I’m a nice guy.”

Yes, yes you are.