“Why am I always the youngest?” my four year old son Jackson whined on our way home last night.
“You are not the youngest…” and I went on to list his cousins and friends that are younger than he is. But that of course was no comfort to him – I didn’t expect it to be. I knew whom he meant. He was talking about his “real” friends as he calls them – the core group of kids, including his boy cousins, who are all a year to two years older than he is.
Then he goes on, “I mean Lachlan is five and now he’s got a girlfriend …” I did my best to smother my laughter and shock as I listened to him ramble on, “…and we have got a band now…we are going to practice at Dick’s house. We asked him if we could. And Lachlans’ girlfriend might come – we haven’t decided yet if she is going to be in the band…”
My face contorted with repressed laughter. It was too much – both hilarious and tragic that my little baby was talking like a teenager.
I mean I know he is growing up – but this is ridiculous!