Flawless reasoning

Actual dialogue between Owen and me just now.

Owen (looking out at the moon through the bedroom windows, which still have no curtains, so if the mowers come early on Thursdays, yes, they get a show): Mommy, do you want to go to the moon?

Me: Heck no

Owen: I want to.

Controlling me: No, you don't.

Owen: Yes I do. I want to see aliens. Do you want to see aliens?

Me: No, but if I did, I wouldn't find them on the moon.

Owen: You don't want to see aliens?

Me: Nope.

Owen: What's your favorite color?

Me: Blue.

Owen: Then what?

Me: Red.

Owen: Then what?

Me: Purple.

Owen: Then What?

Me: Maybe sage green, but then, I'm out, Owen.

Owen: Okay. Well, what if the aliens were those colors? Wouldn't you want to meet them then?

Flawless. I had nothing up against that sort of logic. He had me. I want to see the aliens now.