When were you born?

My folks were up for a visit this weekend, so we went to an Andy Warhol art exhibit. It was an exhibit of his political work. We enjoyed it immensely, and my daughter learned all about the assassination of JFK in 1965, three years before I was born. I told her that more than once. My parents told her all about where they were that day, and what a shock to the nation it was. Loss of innocence, I say. When my mother spoke tears came to her eyes a bit even today, about sitting in front of the TV for days and the world just stopping, our country anyway. It was all very affecting and memorable, I thought. My daughter was keenly interested.

Ok, do you have a Scholastic Children’s Dictionary? If you are parent of a curious kid like mine, or have to buy a gift for a child this $19 book is worth every dime. My daughter’s favorite part is the listings and pictures all of the Presidents of the United States; she is always looking through and telling me things. Great book buy it.

Anyway, to put these two things together: Two days after we were home from the exhibit she’s reading her favorite book and says to me, “Mom, Theodore Roosevelt was born October 27, 1858.”
“Wow, he was? That’s interesting honey.”
“Isn’t that when you were born?”
Aahhhhhhhhhhh, I think my head spun around three times on it’s own, as I was trying to turn around and look at her! Ha ha. I guess it’s close, 1968 – 1858. We’ve got to do a lot more math around here! Kids they keep you young, or turn you into a fossil...