William: "Why does Small One have to be sold?"
Me: "Because he can't work enough to pay for his food anymore."
William: "Why can't he work?"
Me: "He's getting too old."
William: "Why is he getting old?"
Me: "All living things eventually get old
William: "I'm not old."
Me: "No, right now you're a little boy, but someday you'll get old
William, with a slight hitch in his voice: "And then you'll have to sell me?"
(After working hard to smother laughter, I assured him that we weren't going to sell him, ever.