Sometimes when we are in the car, Cat, Tate and I play the “Perfect World” Game. Essentially, each player describes what would be going on in her perfect world at a given moment.

Recently, while en route to camp, Cat, age 8, announced, “In MY perfect world, I would be laying on the beach, being served a fruity drink by a hunky man toy.”

“Cat,” I said in a shocked voice, “That’s MY usual answer, why on earth would YOU say that?” (Until now her perfect world has involved a large number of puppies and a Jonas Brothers concert.)

“I had to say it Mom,” she replied. “I’ve been thinking about it and thinking about it, and I can’t think of anything more perfect than that.”