The girls and I were walking to the mailbox...
Clare: I no go potty in the toilet. (I haven't asked her about that in ages, she just randomly brought it up.)
Me: Oh really, when do you want to go potty in the toilet?
Clare: When I five.
Me: Oh, well five-year-olds can't live at my house unless they go potty in the toilet.
Clare: That okay, when I three I live at Hank's house. (Hank is the dog we frequently dog sit.)
Me (to myself): SWEET!!! I don't have to deal with it either way. Poor Hank.