On the way home from school today, Connor informed me that some people are flat. Yes, flat. With an L.
He was reluctant to explain what he meant by that beyond telling me that being flat required a flat car to drive. When I pressed him to find out the origin this statement (half-expecting him to cite "my friend Charlie"), he threw me for a loop.
"My friend told me. His name is Cheeseburger. Cheeseburger Glen Joey."