One time I had an idea. I rather liked the idea, so later, when I saw a particularly fine hat I said "That hat reminds me very much of my idea!" I brought the hat home and put it on a shelf. Then some very strange happenings came upon my house. It was small things at first, but it happened more and more. A pen would go missing. Some paint would have chipped off the wall. I began to see a small grey ghostly child out of the corner of my eye. I thought it was my imagination. The mournful small grey child, staring at me, wearing a hat.
It would appear since that day I brought the hat home, a small child had grown from under the hat, carrying with him all the same weight of responsibilities of a real physical child. Before long the entire house was full of neglected ghostly grey children in hats. "Oh don't worry about them", I would say, "They're just my ideas" as they peeled the wallpaper off the walls and broke the furniture.