My son and I were walking down Main Street. I was still singing the song that had been on the radio in the bookshop we just left, a catchy tune that suggested that I should shake, shake, shake my booty.
"I don't think that's very appropriate," said my eight-year-old.
"Which part? The lyrics to the song, or the fact that I'm singing it out loud in public?"
"A little of both, actually."
"Hmm..." I replied. "Would it be more appropriate if I danced while I sang it?"
I proceeded to demonstrate, dancing in the manner the song suggested.
"No," he said. "That doesn't help."
A few more steps down the road he said, "I'm going to invent a pair of anti-embarrassment goggles. They'll blank out when something embarrassing happens and there will be text at the bottom that just tells you what's happening so you don't have to see it."
He looked at me, and added, "Or hear it."
"I think that's a very creative idea," I told him. "I promise to help you test them." And then I finished singing my song.