Isabella (she’s 6): Daddy, will I ever move out of this house.
Me: Yes, Honey. Someday.
Iz (slightly panicked): When, Daddy?
Me: Don’t worry, Puppy. Not anytime soon. You’re good.
Iz: But, at some time I’ll have to leave, right.
Me: Sweetie… Please don’t worry about this. You’re 6. You have your whole life ahead of you.
Iz (flashing her devilish grin): Yeah… But… You don’t.