Lydia pointed out the window as we drove by, “Oh! We have gone to that park before lots of times.”

Her sister gave a sarcastic snort from the middle seat. “What? No. Not lots of times. We haven’t been there Lots of times.”

“Yes.” Lydia insisted. “Lots.”

“No, Lydia. We have gone there twice. Twice is not lots of times.” She sighed. “It’s just two times. That means if you were going to count the number of times we were there you would start and say, ‘One… Two…'” She paused for effect. “And that’s it. You are already done counting the number of times. One. Two. And then stop, because that’s all there is to count. That’s not a lot of times. A lot of times is like, ‘One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. -”

“Okay Clara! Stop!” Her sister demanded. “Not lots of times. We have been there two times.”

Her sister giggled triumphantly and then mumbled again quietly to herself, “Lots of times… twice.” There were several seconds of silence and some thinking in the back seat. “Oh! Wait, can we go to that park, Dad!”

“Sorry, No. We are a long long ways away from that park now.”