I pull into the parking lot of our local grocery store.
In the van with me is my precious little six year old daughter that I love and adore.
We exit the vehicle and she takes my hand, like the sweet little girl that loves her Mommy, and we stroll along together towards the shopping carts.
She begins to skip. "I love to skip," she says sweetly, skipping out in front of me.
"I know you do," I say, in a nice Mama voice. "I don't skip very well," I then say, making my very tired and not-so-limber body attempt to skip.
Not missing a beat(*skip-skip, skip-skip, skip-skip*), and still holding onto my hand, she says, "That's because you're old."
And ... there ya go.
On the upside ... It's okay if I'm too old to skip. I've done enough skipping in my life. I don't even wanna skip.