This evening at bathtime we discussed aesthetics, science, and epistemology.
“Do these match?” She hols up two rubber ducks.
“Um, yes.”
“No, daddy, they’re not the same color.”
“Oh. Well, they’re both made of meatballs.”
“No they aren’t!”
“Sure they are.”
“No, daddy.”
“They might be.”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“Well, suppose they are made of meatballs which are themselves made of rubber ducks.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“And those rubber ducks are, perhaps, in turn made of meatballs, which are in turn made out of rubber ducks!”
“No.”
“It’s what philosophers call ad infinitum.”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s silly.”
This is not bad as epistemological declarations go. It might not pass muster with, say, Heidegger, but assuming silly things to be false is further than a lot of people get even as adults, so I say points to her, and move on.
“Oh. Well, what are you made out of?”
“Skin!”
“You certainly have skin on the outside.”
“And bones, and then they put the muscles on the bones, and then they put the skin on top. And they closed up the skin.” (stretches the skin on her leg to demonstrate) “They had to close it up. It was really hard.”
“Oh! Did they have to use tape.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Glue?”
“No, I think they used a lot of things. But I don’t know exactly what.”
“It’s one of the Great Mysteries of Science.”