Conversation between friends.

My niece and Peanut quickly flew into the kitchen, trying to get to their places at the table so they could eat and go back to playing. Here's the conversation that transpired:

Niece: Peanut, I like dancing.

Peanut: I like playing in rock bands, but I don't have one yet.

N: Oh. Who says you don't have one? (she said it with indignence)

P: Me . . . Because I really don't have one.

N: Well, you can start one.

P: Yeah, you can be the singer and Z. can be the drummer.

N: Z?!

P: Yes, he's my friend.

N: Yeah, but he's gonna have to come over here.

---

Not that long after the above conversation, the two flew downstairs again, but kind of in a tumble. They somehow made their way back into the kitchen, were there for a spell, then one heard this sort of "clunk," you know, the sound of a head hitting the table.

Niece exclaiming, "Ow. Ow. Ow Peanut."

Peanut simultaneously telling her, "Sorry Niece. Sorry Niece. Sorry."

Then Niece again telling Peanut, "You know you aren't supposed to tackle me."


Ahhhh, children.