conversation with a newly crowned five year old

But miss, I say, her pink crown sparkling, eyes twinkling as she sits on my lap, I'm not sure I can let you be five! Five is very grown up. 

Her eyes cloud for a second, but mom, that's how it works. Kids grow and grow and then they turn into moms. Or they grow and grow to be dads. That's how it works!

But, if you grow up, I say, you won't be my little girl. 

She smiles. Oh mom, I'll always be your little girl. And I'll live in your house and cozy you and sleep in my bed. Except maybe I'll get a bigger bed. And then when I get married to my own dad I'll build a house next to yours and live right next to you and I'll come over all the time!

Oh good! I say. Will you bring your babies too?

Uh huh. I'll have two, no three babies. Jon and um, Flowerbelle and, hmmmm Sunset. Sunset Summer. Yes! Except maybe the dad will have a name idea too so then I'll have to decide. 

And you will visit me? 

Yep. So okay?

Okay, I say. I guess.