Alexis is in my room, lying on the floor and playing with the calculator out of my purse.
She looks up at me and asks, "How old will you be when I'm 25?"
Too much math for me to actually figure out, so I just say, "Very old."
Without hesitating she says, "Maybe even dead."
(*sigh*)
Then she says, "How old is Granna, anyways? 91?"
I say, "Noooo."
"If she was 91, she couldn't even hear us. She'd say, 'Eh eh, eh-eh (*cups her hand to her ear*),'" she giggles.
Then she says, "How many days have you been alive?" all the while, pecking numbers into the calculator in her hand.
I grab the calculator, key in a few numbers of my own and say, "16,967 days."
She throws herself to the floor and laughs. She sits up, her eyes get real big and she says, "How many?" in a really astonished voice.
I say, "Give me back my calculator and ... GET YOUR LITTLE SIX YEAR OLD BUTT ... OUT. OF. MY. ROOM!"
She laughed all the way down the hallway.
On the upside ... My only solace is that she didn't really understand any of those numbers and she won't remember any of them for more than a day.