Last week I had one of those allergy days where everything is foggy and your head feels like a ticking time bomb. In a moment of dramatic despair, I told the big kids, "I'm dyyyyyying!"
Gracie, putting her head on my shoulder, said: "But you can't die; you're not even 37 yet. You have to wait until you're 40."
"Oh, so you're okay with me dying once I hit 40?"
"Wellll, at least wait until you have seven kids."
"What?! Do you really want three more kids in this family?"
"Yes. I want two more girls and one more boy. Then the girls will outnumber the boys. Plus, I've forgotten what it's like to have a baby in our house."
"Sorry, sister, that's not happening. I feel too old for one more kid, let alone three."
"What if you had a kid when you were 60?"
"When I'm sixty, you will be 31. You can be the one having kids."
"No way!"
So, Happy Birthday to me. Remember when you were a kid and forty seemed like the end of the line? Well, with only three more years until "old age," it's feeling more and more like the time when you are just getting started. Still, maybe I better get started on that bucket list...
P.S. I had an aside conversation with Shayne when I asked if they really wanted three more kids in the family. Apparently he deeply feels the weight of being the oldest child:
"Noooooo! I don't think I can take anymore responsibility!"
"Oh, really? What kind of responsibilities do you have that are so tough?"
"Well, I really help out around here...emptying the dishwasher [his most dreaded task], cleaning my room, sweeping."
"You're right. That is a hard, hard life, son."
3 comments:
oh my goodness. I can just hear Shayne. tough, tough life. Sweet about Gracie wanting more. Did she get that you'd die when she was 12?
Oh and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Wow, that just made me feel even older.
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