Not that long ago I had dinner at my parents' house with my brother and his family. My niece, Sarah, asked what they were going to have for dinner the next night. My brother answered, "chicken." Sarah, not satisfied, asked "what kind of chicken?" Instead of answering, my brother sat there with a look of a person who has been asked "why?" a million times, so I chimed in "space chickens." My brother then shot me a look that said if his kids ever need therapy then I'm footing the bill. I explained to her that even space chickens are bad at flying so they fall out of the sky a lot and have to live with regular chickens. They're extra tasty, so you're lucky if you get to eat one.

My niece smiled and said wistfully, "I don't have a spacesuit, so I can't go into space." Yeah, me too.