To a five year-old, I'm ancient.

My five year-old is preoccupied with death.  He keeps bringing it up. He asked this question yesterday.  

Aaron.  "If I die, how old will you be?"

And then, while I was thinking furiously, trying to form a coherent answer, he asked, "If you die, how old will I be?"

*mommy's mouth hangs open for a bit*
*she finally pulls it together*

Me.   "Oh, Aaron, don't worry about it.  We won't die til we're really, really old."

Aaron.   "But you are really old."

Me.  Thanks, kid.

Aaron.   "You mean old like Grandma & Grandpa?  That old?  When are they going to die?"  

Me.  Erm.  "Not for a long time, Aaron."

Aaron.  "How old will they be when I die?"

Me.  (long pause) Do I say that I'm almost certain that they'll die first, or do I get myself out of this?  Who wants ice cream?

Ethan & Aaron.  I do!

Crisis averted yet again by dairy confections with whipped cream and cherries!   What will I do when I can't distract them with something sweet and actually have to answer their questions? Crap.  This is the stuff they don't tell you about being a parent.