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My favorite part on my flight to PDX was the seven year old girl asking her dad out of nowhere how Michael Jackson had died. As he tried to put that fire out by simply stating he was sick, she proded him further asking, "Sick how? Like did he have pneumonia? The flu?"

I wondered how he'd reply but, finally stumped, he chuckled "That's a pretty dark question!" She gave up after that. And I wanted to high five them both.