Life/Parenting: "Boom, sucka"

I got punched in the stomach today.

Figuratively, mind you, but I might have actually preferred the literal kind to this particular moment. Reed, Rebekah and I are driving back home and Reed is talking about his upcoming birthday. And then he starts thinking about the birthday after that.

"After five, I'll be six. And then seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen … [pause] then sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen and then twenty!"

"Yeah, buddy. What will you be after twenty?" I ask, finding this to be a great impromptu counting game.

"Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty nine…"

He goes silent for a moment, then:

"Daddy, when do we die?"