When my son Conall was five, he was saying that some of the Halloween decorations in the neighborhood were creepy, but "not real." True, I said.

Then he followed up with "nothing is real, anyway. "

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing is real." He looked around the porch. "Chairs aren't real, hats aren't real, pool noodles aren't real."

I asked what he meant but he declined to elaborate.

To this day I have no idea whether he was having an epiphany or just talking random kid-talk.