The Farty Faux Foe.
"Monty. That's my special name for you. No-one else can call you Monty."
"Are we going to be friends forever?"
"Yep! Friends forever and always."
"Mon-tye, did I come out of Daddy's joins?"
"ARRRGH! What is it? It's not joins, it's....it's...MONNN-TEEE! WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?"
Ah, my precious Jude. I'm going to miss these little chats when you go off to Kindergarten in the fall.
He totes in a Lego war-ship he's just built and demands,
"Are you friend or foe?"
"Foe!" I say.
A barrage of spitty gunfire noises.
"But really, I'm a faux foe," I say.
"Faux foe? What's faux foe?"
"It means I'm not a real foe. I'm your Monty, afterall."
"So, you're fake?"
"No, faux and foe are homonyms. The words sound the same but mean different things."
He gives me a blank stare. "Wanna hear my armpit fart?"
Spitty fart noises.
"Farty faux foe!" I crow. Jude cackles gleefully. We go bouncing around shouting FARTY FAUX FOE! FARTY FAUX FOE! It's a delightfully alliterative thing to say. Not polite, exactly.
But it's so fun! That's fo' sho.