Many nonchalant questions by the nine-year-old boy about duct tape eventually became cause for concern.

Questions like,

“How long does the stick on a piece of duct tape last?

Where does Dad keep the duct tape, again?

and

Would I be allowed to use scissors for just a moment to cut a small piece?”

prompted my own query, “Why do you ask?”

Charlie’s answer: “Because I was planning on taping Genevieve’s mouth shut, but I’d probably get in a lot of trouble when you try to remove that kind of powerful tape from her lips. Because the stick is so strong.”

My response: “Yes. That’s true. Charlie, you know how you’ve been banned from scissors until you go to college? The same holds for duct tape. I absolutely don’t ever want to see you working with duct tape. If I do, you’ll be put in your room for a very, very long time.”

Because he can’t resist having the final word: “Relax. I didn’t even do anything, Mom.”

Then, because he’s learned from the true Last-Word Master: “Your thoughts can be dangerous, my son, so I must take preventative measures with you wherever I see fit.”

Charlie: Worrywart.

Cassie: Little Devil.

Charlie: Annoying parent.

Cassie: Pesky child.

Charlie: Be quiet.

Cassie: Shh….shh…shh.

Charlie: Copycat.

I leave the room and begin my mission to confirm that there are no tantalizing rolls of duct tape anywhere within the Bollinger household.