This morning’s conversation with T while I’m helping him put on his clothes…
T (pointing at me): “you. old.”
My heart skipped a beat. Holy shit! He thinks I’m old already! What’s he going to think in 10 years? In two short words, T had managed to dredge up my fear of being The Oldest Dad to a Teenager on the Planet Earth.
Me (shocked, weirded-out and maybe protesting too much): “I’m old? What?! I’m not old!”
T looked a bit confused. Clearly my reaction was not expected. I’d seen that expression before, usually when he’s attempting to play a game with me and I’m not quite following the rules.
It dawned on me that just 5 minutes before, he and I were playing “How old are you?”. The rules are: 1) I ask him how old he is; 2) He grins sheepishly; 3) I say in a very animated voice, “And then you saaaay…?”; 4) He holds out one or more fingers and shouts “Two!”.
Me: “Do you mean, how old am I?”
Me: “Ahhhh…I’m 44”
Ty (big grin): “Yah”
Phew. That was close.