cranky jools, who stayed up until 9pm last night, was snapping out of his sleepy snit. he jumped into my lap on the couch.

mama, he said, am i too big for your lap?

no honey, i replied. you’ll never be too big for my lap.

even when i grow up and i am bigger than you?

if you want to sit in my lap then, you can still sit in my lap.

he pauses, thinks for a moment. then he continues.

mama, when i am bigger than you, will you die?

i hate moments like this. before i was diagnosed, i used to confidently blurt out, only when you’re very, very old. now, of course, i’m not so sure. i guess no one can be sure. but somehow, i am less sure than before. though ever more determined.

only when you’re very, very old, i reply.

i hope i’m convincing.