Reality shows

Skipper and I were setting up for her nap this afternoon when she started making frustrated noises. I looked over at her, lying in her bed, and she said angrily "There isn't enough room! Punghy didn't scoot over!" After a moment's contemplation, I said "Honey... Punghy can't scoot over." and she said "Why NOT!?" and I said "Because he's a stuffed animal. He's not alive. He can't move by himself."

There was a very long pause, in which all the indignation and irritation drained out of her expression, to be replaced by bafflement and then a kind of dawning revelation, as if suddenly some things made a lot more sense. "Oh." she said.