Her: I have figured out the moon.

Me (driving, distracted and certain I couldn’t have heard what I thought I just heard): What?

Her: The moon is on top of us.

Me (still giving my best guppy breathing imitation): Well, sort of.

Her: I have a planet.

Me: Well, it’s our planet. Everything around us is planet Earth.

Her: It’s mine.

Me: Well, eventually, yes.

What scares me is that I don’t know if I mean she’s going to take it over, or if she’s just going to inherit it with the rest of her generation. I don’t know if I should be proud or alarmed she’s calling dibs on it at not quite three.