This conversation is occurring as I type (and is not exactly untypical of conversations that occur in our household):
"You look like a professor, Mommy," says Boo. (I'm dressed more professionally than usual today, thanks to several meetings at work.)
"What does a professor do?" I asked.
Boo: "A professor shows you statues. Like Professor James Officer John. He's older than both of you. All he eats is ice cream. And he only drinks water bottles."
The Dean: "Is this someone real, or someone in your head - who you've made up?"
Boo: "Someone real."
The Dean: "Where do you see him?"
Boo: "In heaven."
The Dean: "Let's try this again. Do you see him anywhere else?"
Boo: "In Delaware."
The Dean: "Do you see him at school?"
Boo: "Yes. On the jungle gym. At recess. He's a hole in my head."
The Dean: "I need to take a pill."
The Dean says that this sounds like dialogue straight out of "Sgt. Pepper" or "A Hard Day's Night."
Tonight is Back to School Night at the kids' school. I'll report back later on about my meeting with Professor James Officer John.