After she read him the above from the 1953-54 Fantagraphics Peanuts collection, my son said to my wife, “Yes, that’s right, because people aren’t perfect. Only things are perfect.”

To which my wife replied, “Well, actually, things aren’t exactly perfect either. Nothing is really perfect.”

So my son thought about that for a second, and then he said indignantly, “Then why is there even a word ‘perfect’! There shouldn’t even be a word!”

Then he said, “I’m hungry!” and went to get a snack.

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