It's Not A Tuna

Cole walks into my room and climbs on the bed, where I am trying rather unsuccessfully to have a quick Sunday nap.

"Mommy!"

I offer no response, hoping he'll take the hint and go away.

He's three.  He doesn't.

"Mommy!"

"Hmmm....?"

"Mommy!  Mommy!  MOMMY!!!"

"What, Cole!?"

"Mommy.  I afraid of the tuna."

"The what now?"

"I afraid of the tuna!"

"You're afraid of tuna."

Nods his head in confirmation.

"Okay.  You're afraid of the tuna."

"Yeah."

And with that he jumps off the bed and goes on his merry way.

I am so bewildered by this conversation that I can't go back to sleep.