So in this whole we-might-be-moving mess, Natalie somehow got it into her mind that if we buy a new house, we’re getting a dog.  We’re not.  But she was telling Grandma all about it on the phone today, and when Grant overheard her, he began speaking over her loudly trying to remind her that we’re not getting a dog until he’s 13 (because I said that once, and I might play dumb in 6 years when he tries to remind me).  This is how the rest of the conversation went, to the best of my memory:

Grant:  “NO, Natalie.  Not yet.  When I’m 13 we’re gonna get a dog.”

Clark chimed in:  “Kids don’t live until they’re 13.”

Grant: “Yes they do!  How do you think kids turn into adults then?”

Clark:  “We’ll, some kids fall down the stairs before they’re 13 and die.”

He has a point you, know.  I’m thinking maybe I took the baby gates down a little too early.

Update:  House goes on the market on Friday.  Driving to my parents’ home on Saturday, Sunday and maybe a little bit of Monday.  When I arrive, I may take a 36-hour nap.  Sorry, mom.  I promise I’ll take care of my children after that.