Sitting in the car outside Safeway, waiting for the beer runner to return. A soft light falls on the automatic doors that lead to the epicurial miasma beyond.
DASH (Four years old this Tuesday): Mamae, do those doors just do whatever they want?
ME: Umm, well, sort of. (Trying to decide just how engineer-y to get, considering my relatively low tolerance in that moment for a lot of Whys and Hows.) When someone gets close to the doors, a sensor goes off and tells the doors to open. When the person gets inside, the doors close again. That way, people don't have to open the doors for themselves. (Thereby contributing to the increased levels of obesity, as well as the lack of manual coordination, not to mention the need for more electric consumption.)
DASH: Oh. Well, that's convenient.
Umm, okay, or that.