Getting old

I was taking stock of all the white hairs surrounding the front of my head when my 4YO walked into my bathroom.


I yanked out one white hair out to show her.


4YO: These are like my teacher's at preschool.

QS: *kneeling* Yup. Look all up here, I have a lot of white hairs.

4YO: *concerned puppy dog face* Oh no mom! Are you getting old?

QS: What do you think?

4YO: No way. I don't want you to get old when I'm grown up.

QS: Why?

4YO: Because I want you to be my mommy always.

QS: *pulling her up into my arms* I will be your mommy always, no matter what.


I am the luckiest mom in all the world.