This was a conversation between me and Betty, at 3am the other night:
Betty: Mummy, tomorrow I would really like to go on a picnic with you, Daddy, and Dolly, and Alfie and Rachel [her friends], to the desert.
Me: That sounds lovely my darling, now go to sleep.
Betty: So can we go on a picnic to the desert tomorrow Mummy?
Me: No. Go to sleep.
Betty: Why No?
Me: Because the desert is a very very very very long way away in a very far away country.
Betty: But mummy I really don't mind sitting in the car for a long time to get there. I was a good girl in the car all the way to London...
Me: London is just down the road, the desert is a very long way away.
Betty: But I love the desert. What is it made out of?
Betty: What is sand made out of?
Betty: You said the moon was made from rocks the other day. Why is everything made from rocks Mummy?
Me: It's not.
Betty: Are there rocks in the desert?
Betty: But you said that sand was made from rocks? And that the desert was made from sand.
Betty: Do you like rocks Mummy?
Me: Not particularly
Betty: So you don't like sand then, and going to the beach?
Me: I didn't say that. Go to sleep.
Betty: And you don't like the beautiful moon?
Me: Yes I do like the moon.
Betty: But you don't like rocks. Have you changed your mind?
Me: Yes, I love rocks.
Betty: I love rocks too. Can we go on a picnic to the desert tomorrow Mummy?