I took the Boy to a comic book convention today, where (among other things) he had the opportunity to be photographed with such illustrious personages as Darth Maul and someone called (if I heard correctly) Bubba.
The place was packed. It was so full I was very worried about what would happen if there was a fire - because, honestly, a comic book convention is not where I imagine spending my final moments. We spent an inordinate amount of time pressed up against people who had clearly made their own costumes from such common materials as cardboard and duct-tape, and who were supposed to be some sort of comic book/ fantasy figure.
It was surreal.
On the plus side, though, I have made a discovery.
Now I know where all the single men hang out. (I know why they're single, too.)