Grant just came into the kitchen, proudly holding an invisible guitar.
G: Do you like my invisible guitar?
Me: Yes I do.
G: Wanna hear it?
Me: Of course I do.
G: (various sounds, growls and humming, while pretending to rock out.) Didja like it?
Me: Of course I do. What’s it called?
G: I Don’t Wanna Step In Poop.
Me: That’s nice. You keep playing. Momma needs to go post something on her blog.