So the Happy Boy, still aged two, just ran up to me.
And, of course, being two, he made absolutely no attempt to stop.
"Ow", I explained, somewhat annoyed. "Why did you just do that?"
And my two-year-old boy, who's not yet speaking in complete sentences, looked straight up into my eyes, and sweetly explained:
Where the heck do they pick these things up? He's two, and he already has a firm grasp of the term torture.
And although he can't pronounce it yet, it appears he also has down the concept of "mortification of the flesh", as we just caught him intentionally (and happily) running headfirst into the cabinets....