"Shoot bullets at me, Mom!" he entreated, and then
blocked every one with his imaginary feminum bracelets. "Now do machine
gun!" and his arms moved fast, almost flailing, as he blocked 'em all
again. The toddler got in on the act, both making the piw piw piws of the
machine gun bullets and also simultaneously blocking every single one of them
with impressively precise movements. They danced in front of me with their
smiling delighted sweetness.
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