I turned 42 today, and naturally the topic of discussion as soon as I woke up this morning was Miles’s age.
“I’m…FOUR!” he declared.
I rubbed my eyes. “You’re still three.”
“No,” he said, doubling down. “I’M. FOUR!”
I decided to try a different tact. “You are TWO.”
“I’m TWO??” Miles said, taken aback. “Oh man…”
While Miles was still interested in talking about his own age, he at least refrained from singing “Happy Birthday” to himself this year. In fact, he picked out both my birthday cake and the candles on top of it.
…AND, naturally, he also picked out a cupcake of his own.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 