Conversations

A younger Facebook Friend of mine reported the following conversation with her 4-year-old:

K., while holding the iron token from Monopoly: Mom, who is Iron Man?
Friend: I'm not sure. Maybe a superhero? You should ask Daddy.
K.: I think he's a guy who irons any stuff that's in his way.

The commercial potential here is huge. Ironing Man could team up with Dyson Dude (sucks up wrongdoing while turning on a ball) and the bewitching, bikini-clad Mop Maid.

But this conversation also reminded me of Owen, about age 11. I was backing up the car; he was shooting baskets in the driveway. He walked over, motioned for me to roll down the window, and said, "You know that metal thing, that thing you heat up and rub it back and forth on clothes to get the wrinkles out of them, what's that thing called?"
"Um, you mean the iron?"
"Iron. . . Are you sure it's called an iron?"

We don't do much ironing in our house. Obviously.