It’s A Grey Area

Little Miss Thing, age 7: “Daddy, why do you have white hairs in your beard?”

Danger Monkey, age 10: “He has them in his hair, too. See… there, and there, and there. All over.”

LMT: “They’re kind of silver. How did they get there?”

Me: “They’re called grey hairs. It just happens naturally as we get older. Almost everyone over 40 has some grey hair.”

DM: “Really?”

Me: “Yes, really.”

DM: “So… I’ll get grey hair when I’m old?”

Me: “Yup. It’s totally natural and nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I kind of like my grey hair.”

LMT: “Everybody?”

Me: “Yup.”

LMT: “Wait a minute… Mom doesn’t have any grey hair.”

Me: (long pause)

Me: “Nope, she sure doesn’t.”

Reubenesque

Danger Monkey, age 10: “Are you making that sandwich that’s all the gross things mixed up and named after a guy?”

Me: “Yes, this is a Reuben. It’s very delicious.”

DM: “It’s disgusting! How can you eat that?”

Me: “Sorry you feel that way.”

DM: “So gross.”

Me: “Hey, more for me. And if you don’t like it, that’s fine but I’m going to ask that you don’t sit there making fun of my sandwich.”

DM: (long pause)

DM: “Can I have some?”

Me: “You are smart, and strong, and working hard in school, and that means you can do and be whatever you want when you grow up.”

Little Miss Thing, age 7: “I’m going to be a veterinarian!”

Me: “Oh, good!”

LMT: “I’ll feed all the animals and pet them for about… probably two hours. Then I’ll go home and play with my friends.”

Me: “That sounds nice. I think you’ll make a good Vet. But you know, sometimes the animals are sick and need medicine, or even surgery.”

LMT: “Why?”

Me: “They get sick or hurt just like people do sometimes. And they need a Veterinarian to help them get better.”

(long pause)

LMT: “I’ll pay someone else to do that part.”

Me: “Sounds good.”