mama, how do you make water?

Is it because we've spent the past hour trying to finally figure out the Icee Maker, which we do, but after hard cranking we don't get much slushy. We get a sort of cherry juice slop.

But it's fun. As a reward, he for reasons I don't understand, wants to hang out on YouTube watching the most boring, white, large, salesman dude infomercial his "I-talian Ice." He keeps saying how cheap it is to make because the main ingredient is sugar, which goes for 0 cents. ?

Later, at Lunds, always in the middle of pandemonium. "Mama, where does water come from?"

"Um...?" Okay. I'm tired; is this a trick question? "Well honey... "

"Yeah?"

"Well... it comes from the sky."

"Yeah, but how do you make water?"

"That is water, honey. Rain is water."  Right? Isn't it?

"I know, but how do you make it?"

It's one of those questions that begs a better answer. "Honey..." I talk about the rivers and oceans and streams and springs and hope to God no one is listening to me because, really, I have no idea. "You know," I say, "they make it into water by filtering it and stuff..."

Okay. That'll do for now.

Later in bed that night I am vindicated by The Hobbit, which we are reading at bedtime. Before the dwarves and Bilbo the hobbit and the wizard Gandalf set off on their merry way into danger once again, the Goblin hating shape shifting Beorn (?) who I think is also half-bear and has a house full of lovely animal servants like hind leg walking dogs serving up platters of goblin flesh, meade and the merry like to their jolly house guests, send the troop off into the dragon mountains with nuts, everlasting bread, and canteens shaped out of animal skins to hold the water until it runs out... and if it does, "there are other springs along the mountains from which to fetch more water."

Jude is almost asleep at this point, but I am so excited I knock over the light. "DID YOU HEAR THAT HONEY? SEE? WATER COMES FROM SPRINGS!"