That reminds me ...

Before we got married, Michael and I were visiting my family in Iowa. (Why? The purpose escapes me.) We got shanghaied into babysitting my twin cousins, who were then maybe 7. The sittage included the wonderful task of getting them presentable for church. My charge was easy: Mackenzie got herself all dolled up, I fixed her hair, she messed it up and declared herself ready.

About this time, I hear sproing, sproing, sproing coming from Andrew's room. Accompanied by Michael, imploring my cousin to please put on his pants. Andrew declared himself a Monkey. Monkeys don't wear pants. As Michael tried to work his way around to this monkey wearing pants, Andrew burst out, "I don't have to listen to you! You're an alien!"

Unfortunately for Michael, later on Andrew (clothed, thank God) appraised Mackenzie of my fiance's non-Earth-native status. She immediately agreed, "Yup, he's an alien!" Brief pause. "And an elf!"