Dear Daughter loves birthdays. She loves other people's birthdays about as much as she loves her own. She loves the cake and ice cream. Blowing out the candles. The presents. The whole deal.
Tonight, as I snuggled in bed with Dear Daughter in the dark after stories, the following conversation transpired:
Me: "Did you know that Mommy's birthday is coming up pretty soon?"
Daughter: "Yeah! But how old are you gonna be?"
Me: "Well...how old do you think Mommy will be?"
Daughter: ""I don't know...! ...45?!"
Me: (giggling) "...nooooo....not that old"
Daughter: "Well, then, how old?"
Me: "36"
Daughter: "Oh!" (pause) "Well...36 is old!"
Me: (giggling again) "You just keep digging that hole deeper, don't you?"
Daughter: (giggling too) "What hole are you talking about, Mommy?"
Both of us giggling
Daughter: (still giggling) "You really crack me up, Mommy!"
I'm not entirely certain that the "crack me up" pun wasn't intended, given that Dear Daughter estimates my age to be just shy of a decade older than I really am. I didn't bother to ask Dear Son. I already know what he thinks.
5 comments:
Well, happy birthday...old lady!
Hee, hee.
LOL!
Happy *soonish* Birthday:-D
Happy Birthday! You are both too adorable. (And thirty-six is NOT old. Thank goodness!)
We have been having similar conversations regarding my age at my house. The big difference, though, is my kids are old enough to know better!
This is exactly why my kids think I'm 21. They still think that is close to ancient but it's better than them telling everyone that I'm on death's door since I'm almost 30.
This was so funny! Your daughter sounds so much like my Emma. So quickwitted and cute.
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