"Mom, do you know that I am stronger than you?" he asked.
"Oh, really? Why do you think you are stronger than me?
"Because," he said, puffing out his chest, "I am strong and you are almost a grandma."
"A grandma," I choked. "Really, you think I am almost a grandma?"
"Yes," he said, a little too matter-of-fact for my taste. "And when you are a grandma, I am going to call you Grandma Debbie."
"Well, that seems like a good name," I said. "Grandma Debbie sounds nice."
And, unfortunately, it did not end there.
"Mom, what kind of nursing office are you going to live in?" he asked.
"Nursing office? Well, I haven't given it much thought, I must say. Where do you think I should live?"
"Well, I guess you can live in a nursing office close to my house," he said, rather generously. "That way I can still see you a lot."
And talk at me, no doubt.