Treadmail, n.

Elijah’s latest stroke of genius consisted of propping up the back end of the treadmill (which he pronounces “treadmail”) on a stack of books, increasing the speed, and letting it propel him into a pile of pillows.

Needless to say, my mother was less than thrilled.

Mom: Honey, are you sure you want him doing that?

Dad: Uh… I don’t know. Do you think it’s dangerous?

Mom: Don’t you?

Dad, sheepishly: I thought it looked fun.