Conversations with Clairey

Last night when I was tucking in Claire for the night:

Clairey: "Mommy, after you tuck me in, what are you going to do?"
Mommy: "I'm going to go tuck Jenna in."
Clairey: "Then what?"
Mommy: "I'm going to go downstairs and read."
Clairey: "What are you going to read?"
Mommy: "Oh, I don't know. Probably some poetry."
Clairey: "What's 'po-tree'?"
Mommy: "You know...poems..."
Clairey: "Oh, I like ploloms."
Mommy: "You do?"
Clairey: "Yeah, I like to eat 'em."
Mommy: "You don't eat 'poems', honey, you read them."
Clairey: "But they're good."
Mommy: "I don't think we're talking about the same thing. What are you talking about? What do you think a poem is?"
Clairey: "Those little, round black things with holes on the end."
Mommy: [thinking] "....Olives?"
Clairey: "Yeah, I like to eat olives."