"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.