A couple of weeks ago I was walking Sophia from Gideon's nursery to her school. For the previous three days we'd taken a shortcut across some grass, but that morning it was a bit wetter. So I asked her which way we should go.
"The normal way," she replied.
"Which was is the normal way? The way we did last week, or the way we've done for the last three days?"
"THE NORMAL WAY, DADDY!"
"But which way *is* normal? The one we've done all this week or the one we did all last week?"
"I! SAID! THE! NORMAL! ONE!"
"Sophia, do you know what normal means?"
And that, dear reader, was how I came to be walking the way to school with a 5 year old yelling at me, repeatedly, "NORMAL MEANS NORMAL!"