I don't even remember what prompted the conversation, but suffice it to say someone taught the boy how to flatter. (And no, it wasn't me)
"Mommy, Daddy is in his 70s right?"
"Ahhh, no. Daddy is not in his 70s. Daddy is in his 40s," I replied and amazingly I did not laugh.
"Oh, but you're in your 20s right?" he said.
"I love you Logan," I replied. Then I remembered that I've been raised in the family that lives by the 'it's this or dead so why worry about age' matra. "Thank you, honey, but no. I'm in my 30s. I'm 33."
"But you'll be 34 on your birthday and your birthday is in May?" he pressed.
And I nodded.
"So you're in your 30s and Daddy's in his 40s, right?"
More nods from me.
"So Daddy is still older," he concluded.
A few more nods.
"When I'm 18 Daddy's going to be really old, right?" he asked.
"Well, he'll be 60," I said, knowing Daddy does not always like to think of such things.
Logan mulled that over a moment and then said, "Right, he'll be really old...but you'll still be in your 30s then right?"
I love him.