Now, they don’t make’em like they used to, not at all–the powerful zappers from my kids’ childhoods were probably lawyered off the market. But the thing does squirt. Mildly. As in, perfect for his age group.
He intuited without being told that one sprays the water outside, not in, and when it was all empty he brought it to me for a refill–with a word and a try and almost a two-word sentence, along with lifting it towards me, it was a Here, Grandma, you’re the one who knows how to fix this.
How did he know it was mine? Indeed I do, little guy, indeed I do.