My ten-year-old daughter has a few chores to do around the house. One of those chores is to sweep and mop the floor every other day.
Today, she was cleaning up a particularly muddy mess the dog had left. (It has been raining outside, and when the dog comes in, there is inevitably a rather noticable trail of mud.)
"Mommy, this stinks!' she complained.
"You're the one who wanted a German Shepherd," I said.
"No, I didn't," she corrected. "Daddy wanted a German Shepherd. I wanted a Yorkie-poo."
"Yeah, but you still wanted a dog."
She made a face. "You know what we need?"
"What?"
"One of those floor cleaners they have at school. You just sit on it and drive it around. It cleans up everything."
"Okay. How much is that going to cost, and where are we going to put it?"
"I don't know. But we can put it in the garage next to Daddy's motorcycle."
All right, then. I'm sure Daddy will be thrilled.
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