In Which the Author Recounts a Tale He Was Told

Though it was rainy and ice-stormy the whole time I was home, I still had a wonderful time. My nephew and I got to play a lot and he's getting to the age where he's fun. You don't realize how boring newborns and babies are until they grow up.

Anyways, my nephew and I had a few conversations. One of them went like this:
Me: "Eli, what did you do this morning"
Eli: "No, No" (It's the name of one of his favorite books)
Me: "You read 'No,No'?"
Eli: "Mm hmm! Uh huh!"
Me: "What else did you do?"
Eli: "Gumma (Grandma - my mom). Hit."
Me: "Grandma hit something?!"
Eli: "Mm hmm! Uh huh! Gumma. Hit. Uncle!"
Me: "No, Grandma didn't hit Uncle. Grandma loves Uncle!"
Eli: "Gumma. Hit. Nate" (Nate is his stuffed animal. He chose the name himself.)

It was at this point that he began launching into a tale of how my mom had evidently bloodied all of his stuffed animals. It was also at this point that I was amazed that two years ago this little guy was not even born.