We pass over the Croton Reservoir on our way to and from church every Sunday. For a while now, Daniel and I have had a friendly argument as we drive across the bridge. It goes like this:
Daniel: There's the river!
Me: It's the reservoir.
Daniel: No, it's the river!
Me: Actually, it's the reservoir.
So a couple of Sundays ago, Daniel got a little frustrated after our normal exchange. Here's how it went:
Daniel: There's the river!
Me: It's the reservoir.
Daniel: No, it's the river!
Me: Actually, it's the reservoir.
Daniel: Mom, do you see all that blue water down there?
Me: Yes.
Daniel (with more disdain than a three-year-old should be able to muster): It's called “a river.”