Me: Hey kids, hang on a sec I want to run in here and get a bottle of wine.
8 year old: Keep your eye on the prize, keep moving old man.
8 year old: When I grow up I want to be Irish.
Me: Irish ? What Irish ?
8 year old: Because I want a farm and animals and stuff
Me: Do you mean Amish ?
8 year old: (annoyed sigh) Amish....Irish....whatever.
8 year old: I want to get married, but just for the wedding.
Me: Well you'll need a husband
8 year old: I suppose, but it doesn't mean I have to like him.
Me: Don't you want kids ?
8 year old: KIDS ?! What needs that pain.
Me: Having babies doesn't hurt. That's just a rumor.
8 year old: I'm not talking about THAT ! I mean just having to hear all the whining.
8 year old: When I have a farm I'm going to be friends with all of the animals
Me: Well I wouldn't get too friendly
8 year old: Why ?
Me: Well if you have a farm, sooner or later your going to have to eat something or sell something.
8 year old: Well that's going to be awkward.
Me: Well that's how it is.
( long pause while she's thinking)
8 year old: OK. I got it.
Me: what's that ?
8 year old: I'm just going to have to lie to the chickens.