The other day, Camille decided to throw a curveball into our usual conversations of which is prettier, pink or purple? She asked me, rhetorically, if God made everything. "Yes he did, sweetie" was the omniscient parental reply. Knowing she had me in a corner, she then brought the high heat, "who made God then?".
I immediately coughed up a hair ball.
The only thing I could come up with was to congratulate her for encountering her first true paradox, that there was no answer to that. She posited that it might be Mr. Nobody (the guy who is routinely faulted for most of what goes wrong around her), but I know that secretly she was seething that she got a Dad whose only sage advice is "don't commit crimes when commiting crimes."
I mentioned that to her and we fell into a very philosophical silence.