Trevor likes gorillas. He likes to act like a gorilla. The great ape may be his favorite animal, in fact.
So the other morning, over breakfast, Trevor abruptly announces, “Y’know how the lion is the king of the jungle? I think the gorilla should be. Because all he would have to do is pick up the lion like this,” — and here he mimes picking up something with a tightly clenched fist — “and PKEHHUUWWH!” — and here he throws a hard punch with his other fist, accompanied by a sound effect somewhere between a gunshot and a bowler’s strike.
Everybody laughs. “Trevvy,” I say, “when you said, ‘pick up the lion like this,’ what exactly did you mean?”
“I meant like when an animal picks up a baby animal by the back of the neck,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Just wanted to be clear,” I said.
That’s quite a gorilla.