
We recently reassigned chores among the family. Today Charla verified that feeding the cat is one of her chores, but then couldn't think of any others. I reminded her that she's supposed to keep her room clean.
I often end up tidying it up when I search for dirty clothes. She pointed out that sometimes I do it and then asserted, "That's good, because it would hurt my brain to clean my room."
I assured her it wouldn't hurt her brain at all.
THEN...

For dinner tonight we had stir-fry with sliced sausage mixed in. At one point Fred commented about the meat in the dish. Charla immediately corrected him,
"PAPA! That isn't meat! That's a hot dog!"
We laughed and told her she was pretty much right.
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