While watching me paint my nails on the back porch, little kid stacked up all of the cushions and created one precarious pile on top of one of the porch benches, which he then climbed so he could sit on top.
"If I fell off a here, I'd crack my head open," he announced.
"Yes, you might." I answered, just trying to paint my freaking nails.
"Then would I die?"
"I don't know, I could maybe take you to the hospital and they could sew your head back together. But that would hurt. I would just get down."
"You'd have to take me to a 'opsital 'cuz you can't sew, right?"
"Right. Not someone's head up."
"But...not at all, really. Right? You's can't sew a dress," he sounded kind of sad or maybe disappointed in me.
"Right, I can't sew a dress."
"So you can't sew at all."
"No, not really."
"So, I'd have a better chance of dying 'cuz you couldn't sew me up and would have to drive me to a 'opsital? A better chance than someone's mom who sews."
"I guess so. That's why you should get down."
"I'm thinkin' you should learn to sew. My grandma can sew."
"Maybe you should live there, she could sew you back up if you fell."
"I'm just gonna get down from up here. You could probably sew if you tried."