Last night I was cuddling with my 5-year-old. I said to him, “This is my favorite part of the day. A good cuddle. I’ll miss this when you’re too big to cuddle.” And he said, “Mommy, I’ll always cuddle with you. Even when I am 60!” I laughed and told him, “Well, Mommy would be pretty old by then. I would be 93.” He was quiet for a few seconds and then he said, “Wow. That is old. You would be awful wrinkly.” I laughed. But I quickly stopped laughing when he said, “But you are wrinkly now. And you aren’t even close to 93 years old yet.”
So I laughed, though not as much, and put him to bed. I immediately went to the mirror to check my wrinkles. Yup. There they were in all of their wrinkly nasty glory, staring back at me, mocking me.
I have a birthday next month. I will probably get a new wrinkle for every bite of damn cake I eat. Damn wrinkles. And the little 5-year-old is going to be in big trouble. : )