I did start reading him a new book... "Rasmus and the Vagabond", by Astrid Lindgren (same author of the "Pippi Longstocking" series) which may be a little too old for him still (my nephew is 6), and we played Lego for several hours, and since I'm still fighting off this cold, I was wiped when my sister finally came to pick him up.
Here we go, quickly written, unedited, and it may be worse than usual due to my foggy brain :)
The term ‘cut-throat’ isn’t an empty cliche when you see it happen in real life. One moment there’s life, then the skin peels open along the blade, a gush of blood bursts over your hands, and the heat and heartbeat evaporate in seconds. It’s fast, so fast you could fool yourself into thinking there was never life in the first place, but that’s what’s strange.
Cut-throat usually means ruthless, or fierce, but when you see it happen, it’s the opposite. A quick and near-painless death, the blood pumping out before adrenaline can take control and crank the muscles into fight-or-flight hardness.
It’s messy though.
A bullet would be neater, but I suppose cleaning up is part of this job as well.
But I’ll tell you one thing, after working as a butcher’s assistant, I’ve now turned vegetarian.