The other night at dinner, our five year old began pontificating on her future. She gave us a detailed description of her life as an ice cream shop owner with a husband and children.
“I’m going to have three boys and three girls. Three and three make six, so I’ll have six kids.” Eden decided.
My husband looked at me horrified, “Did you hear what she just said?”
“Yes!” I answered excitedly. “Did you hear her do addition? That’s very advanced for a five year old!”
“That’s what you pulled from that whole conversation?” my husband asked in disbelief, “Our baby is talking about getting married and having children! She’s too young for this kind of talk. It’s just not right.”
“Is she still talking about naming one of her kids Jacob?” I asked him, “Because I agree with you, that’s just not right. That name is so overused right now.”
“It’s not the name that’s wrong, it’s the whole idea of her growing up that’s wrong! What’s wrong with you?” He shook his head as only a father suddenly confronted by the inescapable truth that his baby girl is growing up can.
“Sorry honey, I’m still just blown away with her addition skills. I’ll be properly horrified later.” I promised him.
Actually I won’t, because crazy-advanced math skills trump all.