H.O.B.O.S.

Kyle has a soft spot in his heart for hobos. Whenever we see a homeless person on the corner holding a sign asking for money, he always gives them some.

(I told him that I wasn't sure they liked being called "hobos," and that the more politically correct term was "homeless." He said that he really just likes the word "hobos" better, and that if it makes me feel any better, I can think of it as an acronym. He even offered one I could use: Homeless Other(s) Because Of Situations. I just patted him on the head. Always looking out for me, that one is. He's the one I'll be asking to take care of me when I'm old and feeble, but definitely not senile.)

Cory, on the other hand, is simply fascinated by H.O.B.O.S.

Kyle, making sure that he wasn't slacking in his brotherly duties, pointed to a hobo and said, "That's what Cory's job is going to be when he grows up."

Cory said, "Ooo! Can I?"

I told him that if he found himself homeless when he was older, that he could come to us, and we'd look out for him.

He said, "Oh. I don't plan on being homeless. In fact, I'm going to be rich! I just want to be a hobo and have people give me money."

"Then no, of course you can't," was my reply.

"Why?"

"Because it would be deceitful."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Cory said. Then, after a moment of thought, "But what if my sign said this? Then can I be a hobo?"