Impossible Arguments

I'm standing at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes.  Mae pushes a stool up and heists herself onto it.  I think she's going to help me with the dishes, but I should know better by now.  She crosses her arms and says, "Mom, what if thirty seconds was a minute?" 

Oh NO.  She's ALWAYS asking me stuff like this.  She wants an argument.  She loves duking it out verbally over impossible what-if's.

I'm not in the mood so I just say, "Well, I suppose everything would be different." 

Before even a single hesitant moment can pass, she says, "Really, Mom?  Everything?  So this counter (she knocks on the counter next to her) would be different if thirty seconds was a minute?"

I roll my eyes.

She continues, "What about this powdered donut I'm eating?  Would it be different if thirty seconds was a minute?  Or how about the way I go to the bathroom?  Would THAT be different?  Huh?  Would it?"

Then she jumps off of her stool, wipes powdered donut dust off of her shirt and skips away.

Somehow, this half-my-size little girl is always leaving me exhaustingly confused.

I yelled after her, "IF THIRTY SECONDS WAS A MINUTE, YOU'D BE OLD ENOUGH TO GET A JOB!!!!"

...She pretended not to hear me.