I know.

These days, anyone who spends much time around Tolliver knows that he knows everything.
I can hardly finish a sentence before he's saying I know.
He uses a very cheerful tone, quite agreeable and not know-it-all-y at all.  But still.  He knows.

The dude does not believe in false modesty.  He is four and fierce.  I am almost forty and often tired.  I let him be right a lot.

At the pool:
Wait. Hank can't get his hair wet until he gets a baptism.

At a restaurant, watching the news about hurricane Hermine:
Well, now all those people will just have to use boats.  It will be a water city.  Or, they could clean it all up.  It would just take awhile.

On our way to the store:
I already know how to get there. You droove us there once before.

Planning his future:
I'm just going to live here with you guys until you go in a grave and you're just ashes.
When I'm a grown up I'll just get a person and let her live with us and she can grow a baby girl and I'll name her FunNelle.  And you can take care of her sometimes.

Signing a thank you note:
What if my name was all Ls? My name would be Lollie!

Building a Lego vehicle:
So if I put three wheels on both sides, that’s six.

At the zoo:
Those alligators are just basking.  It's a nice warm day, so that's just what they do, soak up the sun.

Later, at the aquarium:
That's a unicorn tang.  I don't know why it's so attracted to me, but it just is.  It keeps swimming over to me, see?

That's one of the only times, lately, I've heard him admit he doesn't know.
But I know.  Those fish are likely attracted to him for the same reasons the rest of the world is.