Goth Parenting, Take 2

So this afternoon we were in the car on a long drive around various farms. I had a few secrets in my purse to entertain Lucy. One of them was a blue squishy stress-ball-thingie in the shape of a brain (they gave them out at work). I gave it to Lucy and she was delighted. Until she remembered the zombies.

Lucy: It's a brain! the zombies will want to eat it!
Me: Well, when the zombies come, you can throw it, and they will go after that fake brain, and then you can escape!
Lucy: But I don't want them to have this brain! I like this brain!
Me: Oh. Sorry. Well, zombies are just pretend anyway! You don't have to worry about them.
Lucy: Mom, why do zombies eat brains?
Me: ....... uh, Jake, help me out here?
Jake:.......
Lucy: Why Do Zombies Eat Brains?
Me: Well, we don't really know, Lucy. Maybe we can ask the internet later.
Lucy: Well, if zombies eat brains, why don't they eat their own brains?
Me: How would they eat their own brains?
Lucy: [sticking out her jaw and making a motion with her hand] Like that.
Me: Oh, awesome. So when you're a zombie, you can eat your own brain.
Lucy: Yes! I'll be a friendly zombie. I won't eat other people's brains. Only my own.

We're going to make millions on this idea. There will be Zombies. Friendly Zombies. Even if they have to eat their own brains.

Also, this tidbit, heard literally moments ago at the dinner table:

Lucy: Mummies are mean, aren't they? MUMMIES -- Not MOMMIES. (she very clearly enuciated each).