Verbatim ...

We took the grands roller skating the other day. A little boy about five years old came in and began a conversation with DH and me while he put his skates on.

Boy (to DH): "Are you going to skate?"
DH: "No."
Boy (to me): "Are you?"
Me: "No."
Boy: "Why not?"
Me: "Because I don't want to fall."
Boy: "Why? Are you afraid it will hurt?"
Me: "Yes, I am. I broke both of my arms once and that hurt. I'm afraid that if I fall, I will break them again because I'm kinda old."
Boy: "Oh. Did it hurt a lot?"
Me: "Yes, yes it did."
Boy: "Did you cry?"
Me: "Yes, I did."
Boy: "I hope I don't fall down and cry."
Me: "Oh, you look like you'll be a good skater. I don't think you'll fall down and cry."
Boy: "Oh. When did THAT happen? I mean, when did you fall?"
Me: "A long time ago, really."
Boy: "How old were you?"
Me: "Fifty."
Boy: "Whoa! Hold old are you NOW?"
Me: "Sixty-one."
Boy: "WHOA! Do you think you'll live to be 100?"
Me: "Oh ... I hope not."
Boy: "You look like you might live to be 100."
Me: "You think so?"
Boy: "Yes."
Me: "Oh dear ..."
Boy: "Well, I'm going to skate now. I hope you live to be 100. I think you will."

_____

Well, if I DO live to be 100, I hope I run into more little fellas like this one.

I rather enjoyed our little conversation.

“If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day,

so I never have to live without you.” 

-- Silly Old Bear