Chip off the old block

So yesterday, our son Peter comes into my room as I’m tippity-typing and holds up a little brown snowman-looking thing made out of caramel. It has a little hood or bonnet on it that he has pinched out of the caramel, plus a tiny little protrusion of pinched caramel on the front that looks like hands folded in prayer.

“Know what this is?” he asks.

“No,” I reply, in that tone of voice filled with dread over an impending awful pun (because this is, after all, Peter).

“A Caramelite nun!” he declares triumphantly.

I tell you all this because I don’t think I should suffer alone.