Ice Skating

So Emma walks into the kitchen while I am making myself a dinner (Steak salad with salt and vinegar potato chips! Healthy, I know.) carrying two of her dog toys, a hard plastic one, a la Playmobile or something similar, and one stuffed smallish one.
Emma: What are you doing, Daddy?

Mike: I'm making myself dinner, Emma.
Emma: I'm thirsty.  I want a drink.
Mike: I gave you a drink.  Where is your water?  Go get your water, Emma, and drink that.
At this point Emma has dropped both of her dog toys.
Emma: I want chocolate milk?  Strawberry milk?
Mike: You have water. Go get your water.
Emma looks down, thinks about this for a second then looks up at me.
Emma: I want to go ice skating. (and she steps firmly onto her hard plastic dog.)
Mike: You want to go ice skating?
Emma: Yes.
Mike: You want to go ice skating on your dog?
Emma: Yes.
Mike: Ok.