Arriving home from my work, the neighbours four year old shouts over from his lawn, "why are you here?"
"That's a very philosophical question Milo. Really why are any of us here?" I reply slightly wearily.
"I'm here to read books" says Milo, patting a small pile of books on the grass beside him.
Fair play to you, Milo. That's a better reason to be here than most can muster.