Alexis is one of those kids who is in a constant hurry to grow up. "When I'm in high school . . ." she'll say, as she muses longingly about how grand her life will be. At some point I'm going to have to break it to her that Zac Efron is not going to come dancing down the halls while she sings her way through math class, but whatever. The point is she constantly talks about the future and getting older and all of the wonderful things that she will do, just as soon as Father Time quits jerking her around.
I fully intend to remind of her this frequently when she's older and whines about how fast time flies. No worries there.
A few days ago she and I were outside. I was surveying the damage to the almost patio after the monsoons we had on Saturday (there was literally a waterfall and a stream in our back yard that day--I have witnesses). She was being her usual goofy self, which lately has included making funny faces so that I'll take her picture.
Considering this same kid went to great lengths to avoid having her soul stolen by the camera just a few short months ago, I'm always quick to oblige.
As she was flitting about, she grabbed her umbrella and started to use it in her dancing. Then, she looked up at me and asked, "Do you want to be a grandma?"
I am perpetually stuck in the land of Quit With the Growing Up and Don't Even Think about Looking at a Boy. I know. She's four. She still thinks boys have bee stingers. She wasn't at all referring to her having a baby, but I still went there in my head. I'm a loser like that. So I replied, "How about we wait twenty or so years for that?"
She looked at me slightly confused before replying, "How about fir-ty years?"
WIN! I was really very happy with this ten year extension, and even happier that she's still pronouncing her "th" sounds as "f" sounds. She's my baaaaaby, and all that.
It still seemed a very odd question for her to whip out and it wasn't until I downloaded the photos from that day to my computer that I realized she and I were having two very different conversations.
She was using the umbrella as a cane and pretending to walk around like a cranky old grandma. In retrospect, it was actually a darn good performance that she put on.
I really need to get a grip. I'm letting myself act like a cranky grandma a good fir-ty years too early.
