Reasons Like Seasons

"Can we go swimming?" asks Boy One. My heart rate soars and breathing enters hyper-drive. Few things bring greater terror than the one activity (other than riding in my car) in which my children are most likely to die. "It's too cold to go swimming." "It's not too cold for me!" "Can we just go to the park?" "Plllleeeeeaaaaaasssssseeeeee can we go swimming?" "Okay, fine. But you are not allowed to drown. There will be absolutely no drowning! Otherwise, I am going to have to resort to cutting off your Netflix privileges." "I promise I'm not going to drown, Mom." I must be overreacting. Things can't possibly be that bad. I should check an authority that can soothe my inflated sense of dread and foreboding. I am clearly being irrational. According to the CDC (Center for Disease Control), "Every day, about ten people die from unintentional drowning. Of these, two...

Me: When are you old enough to drive? Boy One: When you are older than one-hundred. Me: Then why am I allowed to drive if I am not one-hundred yet? Boy One: Are you ever going to be one-hundred? Me: I hope so, but it will be a long time before that happens. Do you think you will make it to one hundred? B1: Um-hum. Me: What makes you think so? B1: Because! Me: What do you think you will do when you are one hundred years old? B1: I think I'll have a wheel-chair. Me: Where do you think you'll go in a wheel chair? B1: I want to go on an airplane. Me: Where do you want to go on the airplane? B1: To visit you, but not if you're dead. Me: If were dead, where would you want to go? B1: To visit my kids, if I had any. Me: How many kids do you think you want to have? B1: A googol! Me: That's not going to work. B1: Fine. Like three. Me: That sounds more manageable. Where do you want to live with your kids? B1: In South America. I want to li...