Hana: "I hope that God is young...."
Noah: "Hana, NO ONE has ever seen God, so you don't know."
Me: "Why do you hope God is young?"
Hana: "Because when I kiss his cheek, I don't want to feel those... you know... those prickly things. What are those called?"
Me: "whiskers?"
Hana: "Yeah, whiskers."
Robel: "And if he was old, he'd have lots of wrinkles..."
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