Driving along today, and Noah randomly asks, "Can I move to New Jersey next year?"
N: In 5 years?
N: Why not?
M: Too far from your mama.
N: When I'm 30?
N: When I'm dead?
M: I guess you could request that your ashes be scattered in New Jersey.
N: I don't want my ashes scattered there.
M: Where do you want them scattered? Why are we having this conversation?
N: In Russia.
Sarah pipes up at this point and says, "We are not going all the way to Russia for your deadness, Noah!"