Parade of Mammals:The Imagination of The Nursing Three-Year-Old

The Lone Star Baby's imagination runs to animal families of late. I will be solemnly informed like this:

LSB: We are bears.
Me: We are bears?
LSB: Yes. We are bears. Rahr.
Me: Rahr.
LSB: I am the Baby Bear and You are the Mama Bear and Daddy is the Daddy Bear and Sissy is the Sister Bear.
Me: Rahr.

But there's a catch. The Lone Star Baby will start to look a little worried. Then she asks the all-important question:

LSB: Do bears drink mama milk?
Me: Yes, bears are mammals.
LSB (relieved): We are bears.

It is different animals on different days. Bats. Giraffes. The dinosaur thing didn't work out for obvious reasons. The whale and dolphin things really tickle her funny bone since she knows that actual fish are not mammals. Monsters were complicated.

LSB: We are monsters.
Me: We are monsters?
LSB: Yes. We are monsters.
Me: Rahr.
LSB: That's what bears and dinosaurs say!
Me: And Monsters. Rahr.
LSB: Rahr!
Me: Rahr!
LSB: I am the Baby Monster and You are the Mama Monster and Daddy is the Daddy Monster and Sissy is the Sister Monster. Rahr.
Me: Rahr.
LSB: Do Monsters drink mama milk?
Me: Well...gila monsters don't. They are reptiles. Some monsters don't. Maybe furry monsters can, since mammals have fur. Are we furry monsters?
LSB: Yes! And we have milk!

Now she uses the word mammal herself as she asks the all-important question (Are antelopes mammals?), and every day there is another mammal family into which to transform ourselves. A parade of mammals. Rahr. It's fun.