In bed, after stories and books and she's almost asleep.
"Do you like India?"
"What India?" (That's her latest, to say 'what' followed by the concept.)
"You know, where we live. Mommy, Papa, Felicia, Naya... And then there's America, where Ata Toko, Aita, Rahul Mama, Dadi and all live."
"Oh India," she says, understandingly. Pause and the punch line: "It smells, nah?"