F is for February, Filler...

[The Boy is reading to his sister. (On a side note, gee, what could the book be about? Sigh.)]
B: ... A princess is a polite young lady. Don't you want to be a princess?
G: YES!
B: [in a world-weary tone] Gigi. That was a rhetorical question.

[Before school today]
PK: ... your soft pants are right there on the stool.
G: I wanna skirt!
PK: That's fine, but when we go to drop off B at school, you should put on pants. It's cold out.
G: [running in the opposite direction, shouting back at me in her best 13-year-old-punk-rock-voice] NO! GOD knows everything! YOU don't know everything! YOU don't know ANYthing!