The other day Megan was doodling/pretend writing in a little notebook when she sighed and said in a conversational/adult/matter-of fact/slightly monotone voice, "I'm doing my work."
Me: Oh yeah, what's your work?
Megan: I work in a book store, my boyfriend says my boss is mean.
Me: If you boss is mean, why don't you leave?
Megan: I can't ever leave.
