"Excuse me, did you not see any warning signs?"

When Andrew started embarrassing the hell out of us at a restaurant the other night by drawing a bloody ninja scene on his placemat, I imagined what would happen if he exercised the same creativity in the classroom. Let's hope he soon returns to sports scenes like the one he drew of himself sweating profusely in a Michael Jordon jersey, entitled, "This is me winning at basketball."

His first foray into lurid graphics came several weeks ago. It was a violent scene that looked less like refrigerator art (the guests might lose their appetite) and more like the drawings they use in movies to signal the child with unvoiced neuroses. It was an elaborate scene with jet fighters, crashing aircraft, parachuting commandoes, a man with a gun standing over a prone victim, and a smiling soldier in green camouflage. He titled it (complete with the requisite backward S, squeezed in letters, and mixed upper and lower case), "A army man sent his man to batl the bad guys."

But his recent placemat artwork is more conspicuously focused on his vision. He fully intended to sit there filling the entire page with a pile of bloody ninja bodies strewn in a state of total mayhem and reminiscent of the carnage at the Japanese nightclub in Kill Bill, Vol. 1 where O-Ren Ishii's killer squad of Crazy 88s falls to Uma Thurman's sword. (And no, Andrew did not stay up for a midnight screening with his dad.)

After he had heaped on eight dying ninja's, Justin proposed he add a dragon. It took some convincing before he acquiesced and added a green yet bloodied fire-breathing dragon impaled on a sword tossed up at him by the smiling hero in blue shirt and red slacks.

I suggested to Andrew that his next picture be one of a boy and girl in love, but he scoffed at me. He and Justin then went on to plan how to develop a whole comic book, "Treasure Quest," around this initial drawing; they decided that the comic book could also serve as the inspiration for a movie that Andrew would direct and both would star in.

When I pointed out they wouldn't be allowed in to see such a movie, that didn't trouble them at all. They said it could be rated PG-18 and they would see it when they were older.

On the drive home, as we discussed art and I probed for buried concerns in my happy-go-lucky child, Andrew informed me, "Daddy, if a lot of people go see my movie and like it, that would please me and make me happy."

Sure, Andrew, you and Quentin Tarantino, both.