Omnipotence and the Karma of Ewe

Ah, omnipotence. I am now all-knowing, at least, in the opinion of a certain two year old. And, woe be it to me if I don't have the answer. No, really, I am actually required to know the answer to any question that might happen to be raised, even if there's no bleeding way I have the foggiest clue.
Take our rides home for example. "Mommy, what's that mommy's name?" "Where's that guy going?" "What's in that truck?" And, if I admit ignorance she responds, "No, mommy, you tell me!" So, I make shit up. It's full of basketballs, the mommy's name is Ginger, and that guy is going to the podiatrist. Then I have to explain podiatrist.
Keira has also been honing her theories on cosmic justice. Keira and I were reading a book and we came to a page that describes sheep being sheared. Keira wanted to talk about what happens to the wool that they cut off of the sheep. After establishing that the wool was indeed something I knit with, Keira pounced on a prime teaching opportunity. With much clarifying of point and reviewing for comprehension, she was finally able to impart her lesson. While it was okay for me to knit with the sheep's yarn, when I was done playing with it, I had to knit something for the sheep to wear. See, the sheep was only sharing with me and I have to be a good sharer. Oh, and the sheep would be cold. {what is it with her and things getting cold?}