We had a couple of interesting conversation in the car today...
First, Andrew was wondering if Uncle Murray's foot was being fixed by Handy Manny. We explained it was healing on its own, post surgery, by a surgeon, not an animated handy-man.
A little later...
Andrew (obviously recalling a conversation at the dental clinic): How many teeth have I got?
Mummy: Twenty.
Andrew: And on the top?
Mummy: You've got ten teeth on the bottom, and ten on the top, and that makes twenty. They're your baby teeth, and when they fall out and you'll grow new ones in their place.
Andrew: Why?
Mummy: Because that's how God made you.
Andrew: To Fall Apart?
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