"Mom, is that wrapping paper I see?"
"Hum...yes."
"And what is THAT for?"
"Oh someone I know is having a birthday."
"It's me!!!"
"Oh yeah, you are having a birthday, right? You'll be what, fourteen?"
Giggling "Noooo..."
"Three?"
"Mommy..."
"Thirty-seven?"
"I'm going to be eight!"
"What?!?"
"Mommy, I'm going to be eight!"
"YOU ARE GOING TO BE ATE??? Who on earth would eat a little boy???"
"No Mommy, I'm going to be EIGHT!"
"So you say! How can I protect you if you won't tell me who is going to eat you?"
"EIGHT - like the NUMBER EIGHT!"
"Oh you mean like 'Eight Lords-A-Leaping?'"
Relief. "Yeah, like that."
"Cool! How did you get that gig? I didn't even know you knew how to leap."
"No mommy EIGHT YEARS OLD."
"I've heard that song a number of times and I'm pretty sure it is eight lords-a-leaping."
"MOM, I AM GOING TO BE EIGHT YEARS OLD TOMORROW."
"Oh. I see. I should probably wrap a present up for you then, huh?"
"You are so weird, Mom."
"Just doing my job, kid. Just doing my job."
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