Geese, I guess?

Driving back from grocery shopping yesterday, I pointed out a pair of geese to Tadpole, but by the time she looked, we'd passed them.  A few moments later:

Look daddy! A goose! Just one goose.

Neat! Where?

We passed it already.

Oh. OK. Well thank you for pointing it out.

Did you see it?

No, but I'm glad you did.

Yeah. I saw it.  My eyes are better than yours. 

...

Your brown eyes have trouble.  But my blue eyes are really good. So I saw it because of my blue eyes.

So I see two geese on the side of the road, point them out to Tadpole, and eventually get told that my eyes aren't good based on their color because they can't see an imaginary goose.

Three, people.  She'll be here for the next 15 years, not tipping her server.

On a slightly related note, this mostly made me realize how different her conception of using words to say that we saw a goose is from mine.  Whatever those words mean to her, it's not what they mean to me.  I've been reading the Lives of some early medieval saints, and there's a recurring episode where the saint comes across a village of pagans and basically takes over their bodies, making them freeze or dance, in order to disrupt their ritual and/or show them the power of God.  In the same way that "I saw a goose" just means something fundamentally different to Tadpole than it does to me, I'm pretty sure these episodes meant something fundamentally different to their authors and audiences.  In all cases, I wish I understood what was going on there. I think the world would be more interesting.