My seven-year-old tends to ask me off-the-wall questions on the way to school.
Super M: “Mommy? Why do you call Granny and Poppy ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad?’ They’re daddy’s mom and dad?”
Me: “You see, baby, when you get married, your spouse’s parents become your ‘parents-in-law.’ Meaning, ‘by marriage.’ So, instead of calling them ‘mother-in-law’ or ‘mom-in-law,’ you call them ‘mom’ for short.”
Super M: “Ohhhhhh! So, eventually, when I get married, I will call my wife’s parents mom and dad, too?”
(And then my heart sank, for a second, imagining my seven-year-old married, let alone with a woman. He’s SEVEN!)
Me: “Yes, baby. When you get married, you can. It depends on the people, though. Some prefer first names.”
Super M: “Wow, so how old will YOU be when I get married?”
Me: “I don’t know, kiddo. It depends on how old you’ll be when YOU get married.”
Super M: “Huh?”
Me: “See, right now, you’re seven. But if you decide to marry at twenty-seven, that’s in twenty years. I’m about to be thirty-five, so add twenty years, to my age, and I’ll be about fifty-five when you get married.”
My son sits in shock for about thirty seconds, mouth wide open. I figured it was because he was trying to imagine himself as an adult at age twenty-seven. Apparently, I was wrong.
Super M: “Wow, mom. You’ll be reeeeeeeeeeeally ooooooooooooooold when I get married.”
And here I was thinking about how fifty-five wasn’t such a bad age. GEEZ, son!
Me: “Oooh, I like that car!” (Pointing to the new Swagger Wagon Toyota Sienna in the parking lot.)
Super M: “When I get older, I want THAT car!” (He points to a random SUV leaving the parking lot.)
Me: “But that car is for a family with a lot of kids.”
Super M: “When I grow up and have a family, that’s the car I’ll have.”
Me: “Oh yeah?”
Super M: “Yeah. I don’t know how many kids I wanna have, though. I don’t know.. maybe.. three?”
While he’s shrugging and shaking his head, I’m feeling gray hair sprout on my head. He’s only SEVEN!
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