Overheard Minutes Ago: About Chocolate and Uncle David

Conversation around the table ten minutes ago, while the kids were indulging in a few squares of the (completely inappropriately massive) slabs of chocolate my brother gave them during the holidays:

Lizzie:  "Did you ever notice, Matthew, that you and Seth and I like different kinds of chocolate?"

Matthew (in a bored, duh tone):  "Yes, Lizzie."

Lizzie (oblivious to the boredom factor):  "It's interesting that I like white chocolate the best, Sethie loves the medium brown chocolate the best, and you like dark chocolate the best."

Matthew: "Uh huh."

Seth (condescendingly, and using a brand new word):  "Technically, Lizzie, the chocolate I like is called milk chocolate, not medium brown chocolate...and I like dark chocolate, too, just not as much."

Lizzie (undeterred, ignoring Seth's intrusion):  "And you know what's amazing?"

Matthew:  "Nope."

Lizzie:  "Whenever Uncle David brings us chocolate, he just knows what kinds of chocolate we like.  How does he do that?"

Matthew: "Lizzie, he knows us.  He tries hard to bring us the kind of chocolate we like the best."

Lizzie:  "I think I know how he knows."

Matthew: "How?"

Lizzie (wide-eyed, hands out, palms up in exclamation):  "Because he's a genius.  He's an actual, total genius.  And he loves us.  Amazing.  I love Uncle David.  And he's actually a genius."

I was hard pressed, having know my brother for all of my forty-seven years, not to laugh or dispute her claim of his genius, but her conviction was sweet and so fervent that all I could do was confirm that, indeed, he is pretty amazing to know them that well.