The World is made of stars.

It's 5.45 am in chez GBTCAOM, I'm woken by the sound of firstborn getting out of bed and scampering into my room. He's got something on his mind.

'Uhmmm mummble mumble'
'The world is made of stars'
With that he crawls in beside me and falls asleep.

WTF? No way can I get back to sleep after that verbal grenade has been tossed into my head.
Are they finally teaching him something useful in school, has he been listening to Moby, was it on Ben 10 or am I raising a genius and he came up with this concept himself? My mind is spinning.

When he awoke a few hours later I asked him what he meant.

He had no recollection of the conversation.

When people tell you of the joy's of parenthood they don't prepare you for the psychological warfare!

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