My little family went out for dinner tonight. On the way home, my husband was complaining about an obnoxious pimple.
Daddy: It just won't go away.
Flik: Why don't you pop it.
(Aside: Clearly we've got some stellar parenting going on here that my 5 year old is advising his dad on popping pimples. But anyway...)
Daddy: I did. But it's one of those pimples that just keeps coming back. It's like a cat; it's got nine lives.
Flik: Um, If you shoot a cat, it's dead.
So at least my kid has a firm understanding of cat mortality.