The other day Carson, knowing how attached I am to my children, felt he should give me a head's up on his plans to flee the nest. Probably thought if he started telling me now, then when it was time for him to don his ninja mask and start throwing his ninja stars, I'd be prepared and handle it better - that is, IF I've lived long enough to see that day, considering I'll be a ripe old age and all...
Me: "Oh? Why?"
Carson: "Because that's where ninjas live and I'm going to be a ninja."
Me: "You are? What do ninjas do?"
Carson (as though I should know this): "Oh, they work with the police to catch bad guys and stuff."
Later that night, in front of Carson, I relayed the bad news of our son's cross-continental moving plans to my husband.
Brett feigned tears and said: "That's so sad - we will miss you being so far away and all."
Carson looked confused and stated matter-of-factly: "Why? You'll be dead by the time I grow up."
Me: "And just how old do you think we're going to be when you are a grown-up?"
Carson: "Oh, like 28."
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