"She looks like a mannequin," he comments. "Like she's not even real. Plastic, even."
I giggle a bit, inwardly agreeing with him and then explain what Photoshop is and launch into the speech about how you should never believe magazine covers. I also make a comment that many celebrities have, in fact, had plastic surgery anyway.
Jake squints and looks harder at the picture. "You mean she really could be plastic after all?"
Jake completed his chores and was supposed to make his own supper (as we do every Saturday), but because he did it without complaining I made sure his dinner was ready by the time he finished. After scarfing down cheese tortellini, he sat back and looked at me with contentment.
"Since you cooked dinner, will you be doing the dishes too?"