Today, I played a short game of tag with an 8-year-old who guessed I was 44.
I beat him.
Of course, I mean that I took no pity on him during this game of tag and outraced him handily even though he kept trying to live on the gravel pile that was home base.
His second guess at my age was 29 (27? upper 20s), and his third guess was 19, so he either realized his mistake at guessing 44 in the first place and was trying to fix it the best way he knew how or he’s just really really bad at guessing.
Last week, we discussed dogs. Maybe next week I’ll get his name.
momma betty
Where did you run into this little boy?