While out for a walk yesterday, my 4-year-old Ruby dropped this little pearl on me:
“Mmmm. Smell that fresh air, mom? I think the air brushed his teeth today.”
Then this morning she gave me a little more food for thought when she asked me,
RUBY: Mom, where do bananas come from?
ME: They grow on trees.
RUBY: Then the monkey’s pick them, and bring them to a monkey office, then talk on a banana phone and send their bananas to Loblaws?
Yeah. She’s rad.