Exempel nummer ett; varför ni bör läsa

I am about to ask him what he means when I realize that Alba is standing in the kitchen doorway. She's wearing a pink nightgown and green mouse slippers. Alba squints and yawns in the harsh light of the kitchen.
"Hi, kiddo," Henry says. Alba comes over to him and drapes herself over the side of his wheelchair. "Mmmmorning," Alba says.
"It's not really morning," I tell her. "It's really still nighttime."
"How come you guys are up if it's nighttime?" Alba sniffs. "You're making coffee, so it's morning."
"Oh, it's the old coffee-equals-morning fallacy," Henry says. "There's a hole in your logic, buddy."
"What?" Alba asks. She hates to be wrong about anything.
"You are basing your conclusion on faulty data; that is, you are forgetting that your parents are coffee fiends of the first order, and that we just might have gotten out of bed in the middle of the night in order to drink MORE COFFEE." He's roaring like a monster, maybe a Coffee Fiend.
"I want coffee," says Alba. "I am Coffee Fiend." She roars back at Henry. But he scoops her off him and plops her down on her feet. Alba runs around the table to me and throws her arms around my shoulders. "Roar!" she yells in my ear.
I get up and pick Alba up. She's so heavy now. "Roar, yourself."


/utdrag ur The Time Traveler's Wife