I worked this past Sunday and, while I've got down what time I need to leave to catch the bus to work on the weekend, I hadn't yet figured out the reverse trip. This meant when I left work I was looking at a 25 minute wait for a bus. Given it was already pretty late, I asked Ryan and the kids to make a trip and pick me up and had the following exchange with Malcolm in the car:
Malcolm: A kids' hospital?!
Me: Yup, this is where I work.
Malcolm: You work in a hospital?!
Malcolm: Do you get changed into nurse clothes?
Me: Nope, because I'm not a nurse. I'm a dietitian. I help the doctors and nurses know what to feed the kids.
Malcolm: Do kids go there when they're injured?
Me: Yeah, sometimes. Some of the kids who are there have injuries.
Malcolm: Have there ever been any kids there with an injury? Like from animals? Like a jaguar injury?
Apparently Mal hadn't known where I've been going for work for the past 6 months, which was surprising to us all to realize. And, for the record, I felt pretty confident stating that there had never been any jaguar injuries treated at the hospital.