Me: I can’t believe you’re eight. You’ll be twelve, then sixteen, then going off to college and getting married. You’re going to leave me and I can’t take it!
MP: Mama. I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going to get married, and I want to be HOME-colleged. You and dad can teach me.
Me: Really? You won’t move off and live with Brooke and Jemi, and get your own apartment, and drive around town and stay up late?
MP: Oh. You made that sound really fun. I guess I will.