Jax: Mommy, who are you making that cake for?
Me: The colonel. It’s his birthday.
Jax: How old is the colonel?
Me: Fifty.
Jax: Wow! . . . Mommy, how old is Papa?
Me: Sixty-seven.
Jax: WOW! SIXTY-SEVEN?!
Me: Yes.
Jax: Mommy, how old are you?
Me: Twenty-four.
Jax: [Clearly unimpressed] Oh.
Note: Papa is not speaking to me because I recounted that conversation in Sylvia’s presence.
Evidently, he lied to Sylvia about how old he is. . . . It’s a Bean thing. We never tell the truth about how old we are.
{ 3 comments }
You’re not 24? Well, that’s a little too young to be my friend anyone. I prefer mature women-pals. I’m 27.
LMAO!!! Love his reaction to 67!
Better to be umimpressed than get a “WOW” if you told him your real age. That would have ruined your day.
Jenny, it wasn’t enough to tell my girlfriend–you had to put the message out on the WORLD WIDE FRIGGING WEB?
Well how about this? I was 22 when you were born. Anyone out there need help with the math?
Papa
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