The other day, the boys and I made up a truly bizarre story, one that somehow ended up having a rather obvious moral. I decided to take advantage of the situation.

“That was cool,” I said. ”It even had a moral. Anyone know what the moral of the story was?”

“What’s a moral?” my oldest asked.

“It’s the lesson the story teaches.”

“Yeah,” his little brother said. “Like the Lion King.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go with that. What are the lessons from the Lion King?”

They looked at each other blankly, then my oldest’s face brightened. “Oh yeah, oh yeah! If someone tells you you killed someone, don’t believe them.”

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed.

“No, no.” he said. “It’s don’t believe your… uh, don’t believe your-”

“Uncle?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s don’t believe your uncle!”

“Can’t argue with that.” I said.

“No,” his younger brother interrupted. “It’s don’t get into a stampede.”

“Wow,” I said. “The Lion King teaches a lot of lessons.”

“Yep,” my oldest agreed. “It sure does.”