The Burglar

Owen and I were having a fabulous time pretending. We were riding an elevator that let us out on various themed floors. There was the one full of beads, the one filled with water, and the one with the ice cream machine. Unfortunately, on the last floor, there also lurked a burglar. He was in the bathroom. I did not become aware of his presence until Owen declared, "Oh no, there's a burglar." He promptly ran into the bathroom and made an "umph" sound. I knew that this was the sound of a burglar being tackled by a four year old. Herein lies a sticky situation. We have tried to teach Owen that fighting and hitting are not the answer to life's frustrations. However, were he to come across a real-life burglar in his bathroom, I would not particularly want him to try to explain to the burglar that it makes him sad when his house is robbed and his privacy is violated. This seems to be a more complicated conversation than I need to have with my four year old, so I decide to remain silent and expressionless over the attack on the burglar. Owen, on the other hand, rarely chooses the silent route. He marches back into the living room, looks at me with great self-assurance and declares, "There was a sign beside him that said you could knock him down."