[Mogget and Damian are going to be a beautiful disaster. But ten? Ten? Mogget snorts quietly, because ten years is the length of a really, really good nap.]

"Pretty okay," you say. I suppose there is something commendable about doing things on your own at such a young age, although I find that the younger a human, the sillier they tend to be.

[Teens are another beast entirely! But while that's certainly a rude thing to say to a child, his tone isn't sarcastic at all; it's very matter-of-fact, because listen, kiddo, he's been around humans for way too long. He's seen some things, which is why, after another few seconds of silence, he oh-so casually asks:]

What would you say you have the most trouble with?

[Not that he's offering to help if he can!! Gosh!]