Thoughts from the backseat on a drive into school: “Daddy,” she begins, “maybe this is all just a play.”
Shakespearean supposing. Then, later: “I know, I know! Maybe we are all in somebody’s dream!”
I ask, importantly, “What do you think it would mean if we were all in a dream? Would mommy and daddy still love you?”
“Yep,” she replied, certain despite Descartes.