Thursday, April 15, 2010

Not Math

We wished Buster a happy birthday yesterday, and said, “You’re two years old!”

He frowned a mighty frown. “FIVE!” He insists he is five.

His five year old big brother is not so excited about the little one claiming that age, so we agreed that he could pretend that he’s eight. SwingDaddy and I are both pretending that we’re twenty-one. It’s a good day.

Count 'em. One, two, three, four, five.

2 comments:

mayberry said...

Cool! I'll be 25.

Amber said...

I like to think of myself as 24, so I'll run with that.

And it's sort of cute that Buster wants to be like his brother. Although I can understand Q-ster's indignation.