Joey went through this stage — he’d give me two horrible choices, and I had to pick one. Like, “Would you rather be torn up by a tiger or run over by a car?” Tough stuff, and now, Danny is challenging me, too. Yesterday, he asked me if I’d rather fall from the Empire State Building or get cancer. I picked cancer.
I figure my chances of surviving the disease are better than what might happen if I tumbled from the 102-story New York landmark. It’s 1,250 feet tall, and, well, I’m just not signing up for that. Of course, I don’t want cancer either (once was plenty for me), but when a 7-year-old puts on the pressure, a girl’s gotta choose.
His follow-up question was a choice between cancer or a good life with people I love. Just as I was answering a definite good life, he added, “The people are shooting guns!”
Ugh.