Where animals come from

From George
After watching Ratatouille, in an effort to put off the inevitable time she has to go to sleep:
Gwen: Papa, what are animals made of?
George: Much the same things that we are. Flesh, skin, bones, hair...
Gwen: No, I mean where do animals come from?
George: They grow from little animals, like people grow from little people.
Gwen: And where do little animals come from?
George: From their mother's belly. Every animal has a mother...
Gwen: And how do they get in their mother's belly?
George: That's complicated, I'll explain it later.
(Pause)
Gwen: Papa, I know where animals come from.
George: Really?
Gwen: Yes. First there are these little microbes. Then bigger, long microbes stick on to them. By sucking, like this. (Demonstrates sucking in air.)
George: And they stick together to make animals?
Gwen: Yes. The legs get made first.
George: Really? Who told you this?
Gwen: Yes. Let me remember what my grandfather told me. The legs get made first, then the stomach, then the back, the arms, the fingers, the palms... No, that's not right, these are animals, they don't have fingers. It must be the animal legs get made first, then the paws...
George: Oh. That makes the whole animal that way?
Gwen: Yes. And then after the animals die, they turn into people.

The perfect job

Gwenchik was trying to define what 'grown up' meant, and decided that if you work --- you are grown up.
Me: So what kind of profession do you see yourself interested in?
Gwen: One in which you can eat lots and lots and lots of candy!

How silly is silly

We have two of Gwenchik's uncles visiting us from Indiana. She is thrilled that they came to visit and overwhelmed with all the attention. They go for all day sessions at MIT and every morning Gwenchik's wants to know when they will have the reserved time
to play just with her.

This morning, we were going as usual to her MindLab class, and all of a sudden she wanted the uncles to leave earlier for MIT. So while driving to class, I asked why?

Gwen: Mom, they are really, really silly most of the time. They speak really fast and say only nonsense. Probably grown up nonsense, but I do not understand what is so funny most of the time.
Me: So do you what them to stay at MIT longer, because it seems like they are too grown up for you?
Gwen: Oh, no. They have to come and read me a story tonight and play with me. I just have to rest, get enough sleep and maybe you can read me a book in a way that actually make sense. Then I can just watch them being silly. It is really funny and I do not think they understand that they are silly, do you?
......
Later, on the way back continuing conversation.
Me: You know, you can probably tell them when they are being too silly and you do not understand them.
Gwen: I tried several times, but they keep talking about strange things and continue to be silly. Of course, I can tell them that I will not kiss them good night if they won't read they book like everyone else---but that is really not nice. So I just wait...

Asking for too much

We were driving back from our Saturday classes. On the way there we were listening to classical music and discussing anatomy: functions of the brain and the stomach. So on the way back, I wanted to listen to my last book on tape: "Harry Potter".
Me: Ok, let's listen to some Harry Potter for a bit.
Gwen: No, I want to know more about anatomy.
Me: But I can't really tell you more. Let's get a book from the library and we can look at the pictures and read more about it. But for now, I want something for my enjoyment.
Gwen: But I kiss you for your enjoyment all the time! Why do you need some Harry Potter?

Everybody wants to be a cat

From George.
Late in the evening.
Gwen: Papa, I want to be a cat.
George: Why is that?
Gwen: Because then I would never sleep.
George: Actually, cats sleep even more than people do, sixteen hours per day.
Gwen: I never see them sleeping.
George: Well, frankly, they try to find a place far away from you to go to sleep. They think it's safer that way.
Gwen: Oh. What animal never has to sleep?

Heir presumptive

From George.
As I was putting Gwen to bed, while she did not want to go:
Gwen: Papa, when will I will be the Queen?
George: What do you mean?
Gwen: The Queen, then I will be in charge of the world.
George: Well, I don't know. Not before you grow up certainly. Why do you want to be queen of the world?
Gwen: Because then I'll be able to make my own decisions.