Like the smiling boy in a Caravaggio, his outstretched arms offering apples and pears, he steps into our living room. You know what happens next: overturned tables. Flames shimmy up a tall mast; Theseus abandons ship just in time. Amazon women with impossibly thick muscles wrestle cowboys to the ground. Fists meet chins. Ruthless executions follow: by firing squad, sword thrust, a shove overboard. At six o'clock, dust motes settle, we sink into our brocade chairs--cracked china figures in green and gold. I’ve lost you, little brother, tough older sister. Our knees ache. Story hour's over.