Five-year-old IJ asked me last night if it is nearly Christmas.
"Definitely not!" was the short answer to that.
She seems to think we haven't celebrated Christmas for quite some time so it is about time we got the Christmas tree out again.
She has to be joking! It's only February and I haven't even paid for last Christmas yet. As well as that, I don't think it's the Christian element of Christmas that she has any interest in; she just wants more toys.
But she has far too many toys already - a whole playroom full in fact, and over half of them have hardly been played with. So the idea that she wants more is absolutely ridiculous.
"It will be my birthday before it is Christmas," I tell her. "Do you know how old I am going to be?"
She ponders the question for a while before confidently announcing, "You are going to be fifty, Mummy."
Now that's even more ridiculous than the idea that Christmas might be just around the corner. And she isn't asking a question, she is telling me that I am going to be fifty. Fact.
I am not going to be 50.
I explain to her that at the moment (and for another 6 weeks) I am 35.
"But 50 comes after 35." She tells me.
"No it doesn't, 36 comes after 35."
She seems unconvinced. "Are you as old as Granny?" she then asks.
Well I can hardly be as old as my own mother, who IJ seems to think is 93. She has mis-calculated her age by 30 years!
I try to explain this to her (what are they teaching her at school?). She seems to understand, but then adds, "But you are both quite old."
The conversation is no longer funny. In her eyes I will always be ancient.
Then she revisits the Christmas theme. "Even though it isn't Christmas yet, is Santa still watching me?"
Yes! I tell her. Santa is watching her and making sure she behaves and that she is nice and kind (and tactful!).
I'm tempting to tell her that Santa is actually quite old, much older than me, but think it best not to start discussing ages again. I am still hurt. Sob!
