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He’d better not get wet, or I’ll be doing the laundry for a week.

“Can I ride a bus?” Owen asked.

“You will ride a bus to school in another year.”

“But I get to go to school.”

“Yes. You’ll go to preschool at the end of the summer,” Fallon said.

Owen looked up at Evan. “With you?” he asked.

“Not with me,” Evan said.

Owen huffed.

“Evan is going to high school,” Fallon explained. “It’s where the big kids go.”

“I’m big!” Owen declared.

And determined. “You are big.”

“She means where theolderkids go,” Evan said.

“You is not old,” Owen told Evan. “Momma is old!” He pointed at Fallon and laughed.

“I’m notold,” Fallon said.

“Uh-huh,” Owen chimed. “You is older than Mommy.”

“Well…”

“You is older than Grandma,” Owen continued.

Fallon’s jaw dropped. “I’mnotolder than your grandmothers.”

“Uh-huh. Grandma Billie says.”

I’ll bet Grandma Billie says a lot of things.“Two months older,” Fallon said.

Evan laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” Fallon asked.

“It’s just funny listening to you defend yourself to Owen.”

“Mm.”

“Momma?”

“Yes?”

“I can ride the bus?”

Fallon wanted to smack her forehead. As much as Owen had grown, time was a concept he still didn’t fully grasp. “When you are five,” Fallon replied.

Owen held up his hand and tried to spread his sticky fingers apart as chocolate ice cream dripped between them. “One, two, three, four—Frog!”

Fallon blinked.