Adam, Age 11: What's baseball?
Calvin: It's a game, son. I can explain it pretty easily. See, there's a pitcher.
Adam, Age 11: Oh, like a painting.
Calvin: No, a pitch-er.
Adam, Age 11: Like one of mom's?
Calvin: No. There's a man who throws the ball to a man who has a bat.
Adam, Age 11: Oh! The nocturnal flying mammal?
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