As we were riding in the car recently, Jane leaned forward and whispered to me, “Mommy. Am I older than a century or a decade?”
I turned my head slightly and whispered, “A decade.”
“Ok, that’s what I thought but I wanted to make sure.”
She then sat back in her seat and turned to her brother, “Hey, Daryl. Did you know that I’ve been alive for over a decade?” She said it in a way that made it sound like a very impressive feat.
“Well, yeah,” he responded as if talking to a simpleton. “A decade is only ten years, Sissy.”
I think it’s getting harder and harder for her to pull one over on her little brother.