“What’s the matter, Sunshine?” asks Little Blog, looking really worried about her sister.

“My brain is too full, Little Blog,” she responds with a groan.

Little Blog’s eyes go into Large mode again.

“How does that work, Sunshine?!”

Sunshine lifts her head from her hands.

“It’s from thinking too much before I go to sleep.”

“But how does your brain fill up in the morning?”

“It’s because when I wake up I’m thinking about the things I was thinking about  before I fell asleep, and then I get worried that I won’t be able to listen in school because I’m still thinking about those things, and then I start to think about all the things I have to remember for school today, and then my brain just fills up.”

Little Blog’s mouth is open in astonishment. She had no idea so much thinking could go on in one brain. And she is no stranger to thinking.

“How are you going to fix it, Sunshine?”

Sunshine looks at her as if she’s half her age.

“It’s obvious, Little Blog,” she snaps. “I have to try to empty my brain before I go to sleep.”

(And in the entertainment news: Jim Carrey to produce Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind sequel, based on a true story …)

“Do you want to get out?” asks Dad, towel at the ready.

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m a mermaid! Mermaids aren’t allowed out of the water.”

She lets her two feet, placed firmly together, emerge above the bubbles.

“What will happen if you get out?” asks Dad.

“I’ll die!”

Mom decides it’s time to intervene.

“Do you know what happens if you stay in too long?”

“What, mom?”

“You get raisin skin. Look, it’s already starting on your fingers.”

Little Blog stares at her hands in horror, then looks wide-eyed at Dad.

“You know what, dad?”

“What, Little Blog?”

“I just turned into a human again. I don’t know how it happened.”

(NEXT: Mom patents her miracle raisin-skin mermaid cure)

Dad quickly contemplates calling the office to cancel all appointment for the next few hours.

“About what, Little Blog?”

“Daddy, I’ve been thinking about things you can invent.”

Dad puffs out his chest. He always did fancy himself as a creative genius.

“What things do you think I can invent, Little Blog?” he asks expectantly.

“Daddy, I was thinking, maybe if scissors could cut by themselves and books could read themselves and phones could phone themselves?”

“I’m trying to imagine that, Little Blog. And what then?”

“Well you wouldn’t have to cut or read or phone!”

“And why wouldn’t I want to do those things?”

“Because if you can invent those things, then imagine you can invent a computer that would do your work by itself!”

“Yeeeees… perhaps …. and then?”

Dad was picturing fame, fortune and the adoration of Little Blog.

“Well then, Daddy, you would be able to spend more family time! With us!”

(Next: Dad reassesses his priorities in life)

She is gazing thoughtfully at a piece of chicken on her plate. Suddenly she looks up and asks the family in general:

“Do you know what owls eat?”

“I have an idea what they eat, Little Blog,” says Mom. “What do you think they eat?”

“They eat rats and mice, and raw chicken, and sometimes even fish.”

“That sounds about right, Little Blog. And what else?”

“Well those are all things that are alive.”

“So what does that tell you?”

“That they eat children, also?”

“Not really, Little Blog, children are too big for owls to carry. They only eat small animals that they can carry.”

Little Blog nods sagely. Then she becomes very thoughtful again. Finally, she comes to a conclusion.

“You know what that tells me, Mommy?”

“What, Little Blog?”

“I guess owls aren’t vegetarian.”

Little Blog is sad. She is thinking about her grandfather who passed away a few years ago.

Her big sister, Sunshine, is deeply sympathetic. She has been listening to a lot of adult conversation, and has come up with a few answers she is sure will soothe Little Blog.

“Don’t be sad, Little Blog, he’s just resting.”

Little Blog: “And is our old dog and cat who died with him?”

“Yes, Little Blog,” says Sunshine.

Littel Blog dries her tears.

“So are they playing together?” she asks.

Sunshine: “Yes, Little Blog, they play together. But you know what’s even nicer? When people die they come back as someone else.”

Little Blog’s big eyes go even bigger. Then she turns to Sunshine with a wail:

“But how will I know which one is Grandpa?!!”

“Wow, Mommy, it’s so strong it can suck up anything!” exclaims Sunshine.

Little Blog enthusiastically agrees: “It could even swallow us up!”

Mom thinks this is a great idea. She advances on Little Blog, brandishing the vacuum hose. Little Blog screams and runs for the sanctuary of the couch.

“Me, Mommy, me!” shouts Sunshine, eager to be a guinea pig.

The suction of the vacuum pulls at her shirt, and Sunshine screams. Mom pulls the vacuum away.

“Again, Mommy!” shouts Sunshine.

But Mom is worried the neighbours may get the wrong idea: “No, Sunshine, this is meant only for dust and dirt. And small animals.”

Little Blog cautiously emerges from behind the couch.

Then she looks around her with an expression of intense concern etched across her forehead.

“What’s wrong, Little Blog?” asks Mom.

“Mommy, where IS our cat?”

(Next: SPCA launches campaign to ban vacuum cleaners)

Little Blog: “Nothing. But we are learning at least.”

Dad: “Well, what did you learn today.”

Little Blog: “We have been doing an ac-ti-vitty.”

Dad: “Did that teach you anything?”

Little Blog: “Yes. I forgot what the thing is we’re learning about, but we’re also learning about other things.”

Dad: “What other things, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “wellllll … ummmmmmm … acshally I can’t remember.”

Dad: “Are you learning anything at all?”

Little Blog: “We are on the other days but today we didn’t.”

Dad: “So tell me about your activity.”

Little Blog: “Oh, today the teacher said that we’re going to pretend the classroom is a library and there were some books on the floor and she said we’re going to look at them and then put them down again.”

Dad: “So did you learn to read?”

Little Blog: “No, we learned to look at books.”

Dad: “Little Blog, I’m worried about your school.”

Little Blog: “Well Dad, maybe tomorrow I’ll be learning again. So you only have to start worrying after that.”

This is too much for Little Blog.

“It’s enough, guys!” she exclaims. “Why do we need to talk about death?”

Sunshine immediately sees the error of her ways.

“You’re right, Little Blog. What do you want to talk about?”

“About life, of course. Because we’re alive!”

Sunshine can’t let the opportunity go: “So if we were dead, can we talk about death?”

But Little Blog knows a thing or two about actuarial science: “No, Sunshine! We’re still going to be alive for a long time to come, so we have to talk about life for a very long time.”

(Next: Dad’s insurance broker removes Little Blog from the prospects list)

She is sitting at the window, staring out at the garden.

Dad: “What are you watching, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “The birds in our garden. Some of them are free but some of them aren’t.”

Dad: “Which birds aren’t free?”

Little Blog: “The ones with a name tag aren’t free.”

Dad: “Aren’t all the birds in our garden free?”

Little Blog: “No, birds aren’t free. If there’s a bird and it’s got a name tag and it hasn’t got a cage, it belongs to somebody. If it flies away to someone’s garden, sometimes they’re kind enough to take their collar off and let them be free and then nobody knows they actually belong to somebody. That’s the way I like them to be.”

Dad: ”Where do you see name tags, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “Sometimes if you’re very quiet you can go near them and you see a collar and you look at the name and you know who they are and you know they aren’t free.”

Dad: “Why do you want them to be free, Little Blog?”

Little Blog: “South Africa’s a free country so if people are free then birds should be free. So people should act free to the birds just like they act to the people.”

Dad: “What will happen then?”

Little Blog: “Then the birds will like us and will want to stay. Sometimes that happens.”

(News flash: Bird parliament appoints human ambassador)

“O is Oxygen and H is Hydrogen and when you put two Hydrogens with one Oxygen, you get H2O and that is really water,” she explains over supper to Little Blog, who pretends to absorb every word.

Dad decides to show how clever he is: “And H2SO4 is Sulphuric Acid, which destroys everything it touches.” He hastens to add that he only knows this because of a rhyme he memorised in high school. Before anyone can stop him, he recites it:

“Little Johnny has gone to heaven,
and will be seen no more,
For what he took for H2O,
was H2SO4.”

Little Blog instantly declares: “He was lucky.”

Sunshine is horrified: “Why, Little Blog?!”

Little Blog: “Well, then he wouldn’t have to eat his vegetables, would he?”