Early morning. Alice is trying to reach an itchy flea bite on her back. When she realizes she can't reach it with her hands, she starts rubbing her back against the door frame.
Alice: I think I've figured out why fleas bite us.
Me: Why is that?
Alice: I think they're eating our blood.
Me: I think you're right.
Alice: Are fleas related to mosquitoes?
Me: Well, they're both insects. But I don't think they're closely related.
Alice: Oh.
She finds a particularly effective corner of the door frame for scratching against. She looks like a bear rubbing itself against a tree.
She pauses and looks at me.
Alice: Are they at least friends?
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