Lucky

Early morning conversations in our house are pretty fun these days.


USUALLY.


Walking downstairs this morning for breakfast...


Me:  "How old are you Tate?"  Trying to work with him to understand his birthday is coming up and what it means


Tate:  "TWO!"


Me:    "How old will you be on your birthday?"


Tate:   "Three!!"


Me:     "Right!!!"


Tate:    "What's your number, Mommy?"


Me:      "44"  Not sure I'm liking where this conversation has gone.


I can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to process what 44 means.  He can only count to 20 (well I shouldn't say 'only' because I think that's pretty damn good! But I digress).  


Tate:    "That's a big number."








He's lucky I was walking in front of him down the stairs.