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?”
 
Ty: “Yah”
 
Me: “Ahhhh…I’m 44”
 
Ty (big grin): “Yah”

Phew. That was close.

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