BC: Mama, I want a Cadillac.
Me: : What, honey?
BC: : Oh, I mean, I want a convertible.
Me: Uh, oh yeah, they can be fun. But you know, I don't know whether they leak, or whether they are hard to open and close...[realizing I have turned into the human killjoy, I relent.] Well, then, maybe they've improved convertibles since I was young.
BC: ::Thinking for a minute:: You know, mama, I'm going to get a convertible.
Me: When you are old enough to buy your own car, you can buy whatever car you'd like, honey.
BC: When I buy my convertible, you can ride in it.
Me: Thanks, honey.
BC: Don't ever get really old.
Me: I'll do my best. Why honey?
BC: Then we won't be able to get your wheelchair in the car.
Me: ::Trying not to crash the car while my eyes are tearing up::
I really need to grow thicker skin. I'm not going to make it to 45 at this rate without dissolving into a puddle.