Yesterday morning, calling to me from bed, the Hobbit shouted, “Ma-ma!  I don’t want my cookie!”

Cookie? I thought.  What cookie?  I went to his room.

“Hi Mama,” he said.  “I don’t want my cookie.”

“Okay,” said I, “but why not?”

“It fell into a donut.”

“Is that right.”

“Yeah.”

A few minutes later, while still lying in bed, he said to me, “Mama, I fell.”

“You fell?” said I.

“I fell.  I need Obama to pick me up.”

“Obama?  Well you’re not alone in that,” I said.

“I need him to pick me up.”

“I’m sure you do,” said I.  “Unfortunately you just have me.”

“Ok,” said he.