It was just after Religious School, and I'd run into our rabbi outside his office; he'd stopped to chat with me. Once N's friends had all dispersed, N joined us. Somehow, the topic turned to fruit; I think N was eating a tangerine.
"What kind of fruit has its seeds on the outside?" N asked suddenly. It's a 'riddle' he likes to bring up any time the word fruit arises in conversation; he learned it in his PE class, where the teacher throws them one or two word/logic type puzzles a week.
"A strawberry," Rabbi answered promptly.
I laughed; N is used to stumping people with that one. "Ah, see? Rabbi knew, N!"
N turned to me, rolling his eyes. "Duh, Mom. He's a rabbi. He's supposed to know everything."
Rabbi literally roared with laughter. Wiping his eyes, he patted N on the head. "Hate to break it to you buddy, but I don't know everything."
N looked at him levelly, then shrugged. "But you know God's name," he said. That, clearly, settled the issue; he turned and walked away, while Rabbi and I just looked at each other and grinned.
Dear name-of-God. That kid.