Why does my mom get all cross when I play Crunchies Hockey? Always, always, always, the moment I line up a piece to shoot under the oven, she tears into the kitchen like she was shot out of a cannon and announces, "Ivan. No playing with food. Food is not a toy." Then she hides the crunchies bowl in the pantry and says, "How many times do I have to tell you?"
Nine million times?
I say anything is a toy. Who's with me on that?