"It's almost your birthday, mama!" says Big Dog. And he's right. It's right around the corner.
"How old are you?"
"On my birthday, I'll be 38." (keep in mind when I say 38, I mean 26. It's a weird little game I play.)
"Thirty-eight! Thirty-nine! FORTY!" he sings out loudly, bringing to light the reason I'm dreading this birthday.
"Hey! That's not nice."
Later Auntie Chihuahua comes over for dinner and while she and I are talking in the kitchen, Big Dog comes up and observes, "My mama is much bigger than you!" Nice wording kid.
"Yes," agrees Auntie Chihuahua, "She is much taller than I am!" emphasizing the ego-saving word swap.
"She must be much older than you!" he adds. Ouch.
"No, being taller doesn't always mean someone is older. Not in adults anyhow. We're actually just a couple months apart in age," she says, gently correcting his error.
"Do you know what he said earlier?" I ask. "He asked how old I was and I told him I was going to be thirty-ei-" Big Dog interrupts with enthusiasm
"Thirty-eight! Thirty-nine! FORTY!" he repeats nearly screaming the ascending ages.
"Why do you do that?" I ask. "I don't want to think about that!"
"I know," he says, grinning impishly. "But I think it's funny!"
Heh, yeah, really funny. I'll be over here crying when you get done yucking it up. Sigh
Pasta ala Fridge
5 years ago