Five Forever

Jedi has been really into learning about ages recently. He’s been playing The Sims, where people grow in a matter of minutes, distorting his element of time. He’s been telling me that he’s a kid, and Buzz’s a kid, but Abby’s a toddler. And once, a long time ago, they were all babies who came out of Mommy’s belly. Just in case I forgot, I suppose. He lets me know that I’m an adult, while J is an old adult. To that, I say good call kid.

He’s constantly asking how long until he becomes a teenager. Years, I usually reply. Thousands of days. But I know it won’t seem that long. He’s already grown into an almost 6 year old boy in the blink of an eye. Tomorrow, he could be asking for the car keys.

Wasn’t he just a baby yesterday?

Then he asks what happens when he grows up. How tall will I be? What will Abby look like when she grows up? How about Buzz? Will I always be their big brother? Mommy, were you a kid? What did you do when you were a kid? How long did it take for you to grow up? What do adults do? When I grow up will I be THIS tall? How long until I’m elderly? Are grandma and grandpa elderly? Why shouldn’t I call them elderly? Why won’t they like that?

He’s full of questions. I’m short on answers. Except through all my grunts and groans, I like THIS age. If only I could wave a magic wand and keep him 5 years old forever. He’s so interested in what will be, what could be, and I can’t get enough of what is. Now. Right in front of me.

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