„Mommy, my turtle is dead,” Little Johnny sorrowfully told his mother, holding the turtle out to her in his hand.

The mother kissed him on the head, then said, „That’s all right. We’ll wrap him in tissue paper, put him in a little box, and have a nice burial ceremony in the back yard. After that, we’ll go out for an ice cream, and then get you a new pet. I don’t want you….” Her voice trailed off as she noticed the turtle move. „Little Johnny, you’re turtle is not dead after all.”

„Oh,” the disappointed Little Johnny said. „Can I kill it?”