Rama turns 6 in a month. We've been discussing her birthday party. We're looking at cakes, debating whether to invite a "real" princess (the same way you would invite, say, boyoyong clowns in Manila, you could invite "princesses" or "pirates" to your party for entertainment). For a while she didn't want Jasmine to come ("I AM the princess!"), but later on changed her mind again and said, yes, she would love for Jasmine to come to her birthday. Discussing, too, where to have it - my place or her Papi's. (Resolution: her dad's place)
In bed, during a quiet moment, she got reflective.
Rama: I don't actually want to have a birthday.
Me: What do you mean?
Rama: You'll just get older and older and you won't be able to do fun kid stuff anymore.
Me: Like what?
Rama: Eat cookies. As much as you want.
Me: Hmmm. I still eat a lot of cookies. And how old am I?
Me: That's old, see? But I still do fun stuff.
Rama: Yeah, but all my pretty dresses won't fit me anymore.
Awareness of the perils of aging. At 6.