Of birthdays and height.
Today is Schmoopelina's 5th birthday. This is a big deal. You have no idea. Turning 18 or 21 is nothing compared to the excitement of turning five. Yesterday, while we were walking to the T on her way to her "school birthday" (for which she wore a tiara and a pin that said "My 5th Birthday!") she started talking about her future birthdays. Because this one's not exciting enough! The conversation was a typical one and it went a little like this:
S: "When Schmoopette is my age, I'll be... how old will I be?"
Me: "You'll be 8."
S: "I'll be 6... then I'll be 7... then I'll be 8! And Schmoopette will be 5!"
Me: "Do you know how old I'll be when you're 8 and Schmoopette is 5?"
S: "Um. No?"
Me: "I'll be THIRTY."
S: "And my daddy will still be taller than you!"
Yup. Even when I'm 30 (in three years. Wow. That's surreal. And yet... it's actually real.), I will not be any taller than I am now. It bears mentioning that her father gets brought up as the upper limit in terms of human height because he's at least 6'5". Or, as Schmoopelina would say, "He's tall all the way up to the sky!"
S: "When Schmoopette is my age, I'll be... how old will I be?"
Me: "You'll be 8."
S: "I'll be 6... then I'll be 7... then I'll be 8! And Schmoopette will be 5!"
Me: "Do you know how old I'll be when you're 8 and Schmoopette is 5?"
S: "Um. No?"
Me: "I'll be THIRTY."
S: "And my daddy will still be taller than you!"
Yup. Even when I'm 30 (in three years. Wow. That's surreal. And yet... it's actually real.), I will not be any taller than I am now. It bears mentioning that her father gets brought up as the upper limit in terms of human height because he's at least 6'5". Or, as Schmoopelina would say, "He's tall all the way up to the sky!"