But We're Different

A few nights ago, during dinner, Addison (who chats and sings nonstop during dinner), came out with the following:

"Mommy, you're my best friend right?"
"Yes sweetie, Mommy is your best friend" (these days everyone she plays with is her 'best friend')
"And Daddy is my boyfriend right Daddy?"
"Uh huh, Daddy is your boyfriend" (Scott and I smile at each other at this one)
"But we're different"
"How are we different Addison?"
"I'm brown.  What colour are you Mommy?"
"Well, I'm kind of a pinky beige colour"
"And Daddy, what colour are you?"
"Well, I'm the same as Mommy except I have hairy arms"
I took Addison's hand, and flipped it over to show her palm.  I placed my palm beside hers, and then Scott's, so all our palms were beside each other, and said "Addison, look at our hands now, they're all the same colour"
She giggled and smiled, loving the fact that this part of our bodies looked the same, and carried on with pushing her food around her plate, singing 'Ring around the Rosie'.

I could have gone into more of an explanation and discussion, but she was happy and content at that moment.