How to explain?

My special baby, pointing to litter on the way to kindergarten this morning: "What's that?"
I: "Trash."
"Why's it there?"
Not wanting to just say because people are stupid, I said, "Because some people in Klaipeda don't respect themselves or the city they live in."
"Why??"
"...because they're stupid."

Come on! How am I gonna explain to a three year old why people don't respect themselves or their city? They're disenchanted with life? They spent so much time living in the Soviet Union? They're too lazy? I don't see any end to the string of whys that would follow any answer I can think of.

ABCs

At age three years and three months, my special baby knows her ABCs in English. I'm very impressed because as of a month ago she still couldn't get past G, and didn't seem to be making any improvement. That was with my help. This is the result of a half hour Sesame Street called "Do Be Alphabet" according to her, a video I bought that she watches about eight times a month (every day we're in Vilnius, cause it's VHS).

Cake

A couple times a week I will take my special baby to the corner grocery store on the way home for a lolly pop or a popsicle, if she has been cooperative leaving kindergarten. She always asks, just as today:

I wanna go to grocery store.
We're not going to the grocery store today for two reasons. Want to know them?
Yeah.
First of all, see how loaded my bag is? I want to get home as fast as we can.
Okay.
The second reason is we still have lots of cake and ice cream, and you can have some after dinner. Another piece of good news is we're going to have a delicious dinner. Can you guess what it is?
What?
Dinner.
Dinner?
Yeah, guess what's for dinner.
Guess.
No, you have to say something you think might be for dinner.
Yes.
...
What's something you think we might be having for dinner?
Mmm...uhhh...mmmm....eehhhh...cake?
No, I said cake will be for dessert!
I want cake for dinner.
You can't have cake for dinner, capiche?
Capiche.
So try and guess what we might have for dinner.
I don't know what's for dinner.
I know, but just say anything you can think of that we have for dinner.
Okay...cake?

Two bits of luncheon conversation in town

So what do you want to be when you grow up?
What you mean?
Well when you grow up, do you wanna be a teacher like Mama?
Yeah.
Or a professor, like Tete?
Yeah.
Or a psychologist, like Teta Liepa?
Yeah.
Or a writer, like Tetukas?
Yeah.
Or a 3rd level secretary at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, like Gedas?
WHAT?!
...
We were sitting outside because it was so nice out, so there were ashtrays on the table:
What's this?
An ashtray.
What you have to do with ashtray?
You knock ashes into it off of cigarettes.
Yeah?
Yeah, but smoking is a very bad habit, that's why Mama and Tete don't smoke.
And I?
What?
I too don't smoke?
No, you don't smoke!
No?
No.

Bad Words

You know what's hard with a kid? Dancing and singing at the same time. It's hard enough without having to censor the lyrics. You don't even realize it when you just dance by yourself, but red hot chili peppers and sublime are both full of fuckings and shits and whores and other inappropriate words. You got to get used to replacing them fast enough with freakins and craps and moms...