|"I'm gonna shake the maraca all the way to hell, daddy!"|
She and I sat on the dining room floor, her holding a balloon, and an overhead fan on low spinning above us. I asked her why she thought the balloon floated up when she let go of it. The following is the conversation I am pretty sure happened:
Lois: Balloon float up because good!
Me: So you think that the balloon goes up when you let go of it because it has some kind of inherent goodness?
Me: Okay. Why does the milk fall down when you let go of it, then?
Lois: I no want talk 'bout morals of milk.
Me: That's fine, honey, you don't have to talk about milk, then. Can you tell me more about the balloon? What's going to happen if you let go of it right now with the fan spinning above us?
Lois: I'm gonna make that fucker fly!
Laura from the kitchen: What goes on when I'm not in the house?
Me: I apparently have no idea.
Lois then proceeded to let go of the balloon. To be fair, that fucker flew as it smashed into the fan and was flung all about.