“Daddy, how old was lola (grandmother) when she died?” my second son asked.
“She was 99 years old,” I replied.
“She was very old, right?” he confirmed.
“Yes, she lived a very good life. She was always asking for you before she left us,” I continued.
“You know what, Dad? I don’t think I want to live a very long life,” he stated.
“Why so?” I asked.
“I would like to live a ‘just right’ life,” he stated matter-of-factly.
I thought that he made sense, didn’t he?