SCENE: The dining room, last night. Mama has a strangely terrible stomachache and is trying to eat a banana, hoping that it will absorb some of the acid. Nicholas, six years old, is babbling about many things that do not sink in to Mama’s distracted mind.
NICK: Babble! Babble! Watermelon is your ex-husband.
NICK: It is! It is! Isn’t it?
MAMA: Isn’t what what?
NICK: What? What?
MAMA: I thought you said, “Watermelon is your ex-husband.”
NICK: I did.
MAMA: But why?
NICK: It’s a saying!
MAMA: Where is it a saying, and what does it mean?
NICK: It means you don’t like it.
MAMA: So, if somebody gave me this banana, and I didn’t like bananas, I would say, “Watermelon is your ex-husband”?
NICK: (laughing) Nooo!! It’s the thing you don’t like that is your ex-husband. Because you don’t like it. Like you don’t like your ex-husband.
MAMA: But I don’t have an ex-husband!
NICK: But if you did. You wouldn’t like him. Probably.
MAMA: Okay, but that’s not a saying. I never heard anybody say it before.
NICK: Mama. I am . . . (obviously searching his memory bank for vocabulary retained from his summer-vacation indulgence of watching “Word Girl” for three straight hours) . . . devastated to hear that.