Lucy may be having an existential crisis. In the car tonight, she asked, "What does it mean mean?" And I was like, huh? What does it mean mean? She repeated herself a few times until I understood — "What does 'what does it mean' mean?" A question within a question wrapped up in an epistemilogical enigma.
Me, carefully: "Well, I think it means you don't understand something and want me to explain it to you."
Lucy: "Oh."
Next week: God.