Cognitive Horror

When I was three years old, a scientist sat me down at a table and showed me a box of crackers.
“What’s inside the box?” he asked.
“Crackers,” I said.
The scientist opened the box, and poured out some rocks.
“There are rocks inside the box,” he said, and then he scooped up the rocks and put them back into the box.
“Your Mommy is about to walk into the room,” he said. “What will she think is inside the box?”
“She won’t care,” I said. “She’ll be more interested in drinking your blood.”
I bared my fangs and laughed.