Holy shit, my daughter.
So I was messing around on our little keyboard, trying to figure out the notes to a song we had been listening to in the car ("
Freeze Ray" from Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog, in case you're curious,) and I'd found the first three chords but was still mangling the fourth. From the other room, Minifobette yells,
"No, Mommy, it's supposed to be a G!"
"It is?" I ask.
"Well, a D or a G, I'm not sure."
The correct chord was a fucking D and G together. For real.
And once I told her in amazement that she was right, she casually says, "Yeah, I think I want to take piano lessons, too" (in addition to her current violin lessons, which she demanded two years ago and is still going strong on.)